MAGDA.
Not yet--or, yes, if you count the old cat.
HEFFTERDINGT.
What is there in the world which draws you away again after an hour?
MAGDA.
I will tell you. I felt it the first minute I came. The paternal authority already stretches its net over me again, and the yoke stands ready beneath which I must bow.
HEFFTERDINGT.
But there is neither yoke nor net here. Do not fear shadows. Here are only wide-opened arms which wait to clasp the lost daughter to the empty breast.
MAGDA.
Oh, I beg you, none of that. I do not intend to furnish a pendant to the prodigal son. If I came back as a daughter, as a lost daughter, I should not hold my head up before you as I do; I should grovel in the dust in full consciousness of all my sins. [ With growing excitement.] And that I will not do--that I cannot do--for I am what I am, and I cannot be another. [Sadly.] And therefore I have no home--therefore I must go forth again--therefore--