Boy, boy, boy!
(Frau von Drosse breaks out in ecstatic laughter.)
Agnes.
Quietly, aunt! Quietly! Don't excite yourself!
SEVENTH SCENE.
THE SAME. FRITZ VON DROSSE (in hussar uniform, his mother's son, slender, delicate, very youthful, blond to the roots of his closely cropped hair, small curled moustache, erratic person. Uneasiness is veiled beneath a noisy cheerfulness).
Frau von Drosse.
(Goes to meet him with outstretched arms.) My God! there he really is!
Fritz.
I should think he was! (Presses her to his heart and strokes her hair, closes his eyes a moment, as if overcome with faintness.) But be seated, mamma, be seated. Confound it, but I have ridden! And on the way, my horse lost another shoe.