Ebeling.
And--your parents?
Margot.
You refer to mamma? Mamma certainly means well. But mamma has torn my soul from my body. She has made use of the old principle of family rule--which may have had some sense in the Stone Age--and has turned me into a doll, a doll-creature that moves its eyes and says ba when you press its head.--Just watch, Herr Ebeling!--Now haven't I a touching fashion of casting up my eyes when I look at you in this simple, thoughtful, innocent way?--And when I let the lids fall again in all the bashful piety that I still can muster--isn't it simply sweet?
Ebeling (earnestly).
My dear young girl, I really believe I must begin to say "stop" now!
Margot.
Dear me! You're already disgusted with me! But if you had any idea--do you know what you'd think? "Pity that I wasted such pains on a creature like her!"
Ebeling.
I should never think that, my dear child. I should only pity you and love you the more.