(Frau Heinecke curtseys out of the room.)
Trast. You're pale, my boy, and your hands are shaking--what's wrong?
Robert. Oh, nothing! The happiness--the excitement! It's only natural!
Trast. Naturally! (Aside) He's lying! (To Robert) Tell me, how long do you intend to stay here? I want to regulate my stay in this great Europe by that!
Robert. That's impossible, my friend! Our ways will have to part!
Trast. Nonsense!
Robert. I shall ask my employer to give me a position here. The climate in India--you understand----?
Trast. That's pleasant! He doesn't want to leave his mother's apron-strings again, eh?
Robert. Don't make fun of me. Since we're going to part--I have to say it some time--I thank you, you kind old wicked fellow, for all you've done for me. It was the most fortunate moment of my life when you saw me standing feverishly behind my young employer in the Club at Buitenzorg, when he was throwing one hundred-gulden note after the other onto the green cloth.
Trast. Why was I such a fool? If you're going to--Ugh! It isn't decent!