Robert. So you will come?
Frau Heinecke. What do you think. Father?
Heinecke. Well--'s far's I'm concerned, we'll come.
Robert. Thank you, thank you! (Aside) Thank God, I didn't have to force them! And now we mustn't lost a moment. Where is paper and pen?
(Heinecke meditatively scratches his head.)
Frau Heinecke. Alma has some. (She goes into bedroom)
Heinecke. Of course, she's always writing letters. (He shuts the stove door)
Robert. (To himself with a sigh of relief) Oh, now I'm doubly curious to know what satisfaction he'll offer--and I shall have to refuse! Refuse a duel!--They'll call me a coward and I'll be dishonored! Oh, well, I don't need their honor, I have to earn my bread.
Frau Heinecke. (Entering) Everything is laid out on the table--or do you want to write here?
Robert. No, no, I shan't be disturbed in there.