MARIE.
Oh, good Heavens!
MAGDA.
Poor child! Yes, in this house one learns quite other views. I bent, myself, yesterday disgracefully. Ah, how nice our old mamma is! [Earnestly, pointing to the mother's picture.] And she up there! Do you remember her? [Marie shakes her head.]
MAGDA.
[Thoughtfully.] She died too soon! Where's papa? I want him. And yet I'm afraid of him too. Now, child, while I eat my breakfast, now you must make your confession.
MARIE.
Oh, I can't.
MAGDA.
Just show me the locket!