Lise. What became of him, then?
Daughter. Mother always says he left us because he was a bad lot.
Lise. It’s hard to find where the truth lies. But—I tell you what, if you come home to us now you’ll meet the director of the Imperial Theater, and it’s possible it might be a question of an engagement.
Daughter. What do you say?
Lise. Yes, yes—that’s it. And he takes an interest in you—I mean Gerhard—and I have made him take an interest in you, and you know quite well what trifles often decide one’s whole life; a personal interview, a good recommendation at the right moment—well, now, you can’t refuse any longer, without standing in the way of your own career.
Daughter. Oh, darling, I should think I did want to come. You know that quite well; but I don’t go out without mamma.
Lise. Why not? Can you give me any reason?
Daughter. I don’t know. She taught me to say that when I was a child. And now it’s got deeply rooted.
Lise. Has she extracted some promise from you?
Daughter. No, she didn’t have any need to do that. She just said “Say that!” and I said it.