Thekla [nestling close to him]. What do I care! I'm surely allowed to kiss my own husband. That's only my legal right.
Adolf. Quite so; but do you know the people here in the hotel take the view that we're not married because we kiss each other so much, and our occasional quarreling makes them all the more cocksure about it, because lovers usually carry on like that.
Thekla. But need there be any quarrels? Can't he always be as sweet and good as he is at present. Let him tell me. Wouldn't he like it himself? Wouldn't he like us to be happy?
Adolf. I should like it, but—
Thekla [with a step to the right]. Who put it into his head not to paint any more?
Adolf. You're always scenting somebody behind me and my thoughts. You're jealous.
Thekla. I certainly am. I was always afraid some one might estrange you from me.
Adolf. You're afraid of that, you say, though you know very well that there isn't a woman living who can supplant you—that I can't live without you.
Thekla. I wasn't frightened the least bit of females. It was your friends I was afraid of: they put all kinds of ideas into your head.
Adolf [probing]. So you were afraid? What were you afraid of?