Tea! Lager's more in Poppy's line.

[He chuckles.]

PAPPELMEISTER [Gravely]

Bitte. Tea.

[She pours out, he sits.]

Lemon. Four lumps.... Nun, five!... Or six!

[She hands him the cup.]

Danke.

[As he receives the cup, he utters an exclamation, for Kathleen after opening the door has lingered on, hunting around everywhere, and having finally crawled under the table has now brushed against his leg.]

VERA