Helms. But, damn it, I insist upon talking about it. I want to know what you mean.
Krakau. That's all right.
Helms. It isn't the first time you've made the same stupid remark.... Do you mean to insinuate that he isn't my grandson? Is that what you're driving at?
Krakau. For the third time, let's drop the subject. [Down in the courtyard a hand organ begins to play.] There's the old organ grinder.... This is Thursday.
Helms. You needn't tell me. I can hear for myself.
Krakau. It's your turn to give him something.
Helms. I have no small change. Lay it out for me.
Krakau. Remember you owe me for the pack of matches.
Helms. This will make seventeen.
Krakau. [Wraps a coin in a bit of paper.] I just want to make sure you've got it right. You always argue about it afterwards.