MRS. BAUER. Not Fritzi.
BAUER. You want to spoil Karl. I just touch him with the strap once, a little—like this [illustrates with a gesture] to scare him, and he howls like hell.
MRS. BAUER. Yes, and then he don't mind you no more because he knows you don't mean it.
BAUER. [To himself.] That's the way it goes ... a man's own wife and children ...
MRS. BAUER. [Attending to the dinner. Irritably.] Fritz, if you would clean that up out there—and Mrs. Carroll wants her waste-basket. You musta forgot to send it up again.
BAUER. All right.
[He goes out and leaves the door open. She stands her flat-iron on the ledge of the range to cool and puts her ironing-board away, watching him at the dumb-waiter while he picks up the glass and cleans up the milk on the cement floor. He disappears for a moment, then he comes in again, goes to a drawer and takes out rags and a bottle of polish.
MRS. BAUER. [Pushing the clothes-basket out of the way.] This ain't cleanin' day, Fritz.
BAUER. [Dully, putting the polish back into the drawer.] That's so.
MRS. BAUER. [Comforting him.] You've got to eat a good dinner and then go up-stairs and fix that sink for Mrs. Mohler and the drain for Mrs. McAllister.