HEFFTERDINGT.
H'm!
MAGDA.
If you could only end it all with a laugh--this stony visage of yours is so unfriendly--one is quite sconcertata. What do you say? Je ne trouve pas le mot.
HEFFTERDINGT.
Pardon me, may I ask the question now?
MAGDA.
Good Lord, how inquisitive the holy man is! And you don't see that I was coquetting with you a little. For, to have been a man's fate,--that flatters us women,--we are grateful for it. You see I have acquired some art meanwhile. Well, out with your question!
HEFFTERDINGT.
Why--why did you come home?