Lene (has come forward). It's striking twelve.
Aunt Clara. You're certain, are you, that the roast is being basted properly?
Lene. Oh, Lizzie's looking after things.
Aunt Clara. The sermon seems to be pretty long.
Lene. Oh, he can never find his finish. Miss Clara.
Aunt Clara. Let him talk, for all I care! Only I might have put off the dinner.
Lene (listens). Now the bell is ringing. (Distant, indistinct tones of a church bell are heard.)
Aunt Clara (also listens). Yes, they are ringing. Then it is over. (She folds her hands as if in prayer.)
Lene (timidly). Now the coffin's in the ground, ain't it, Miss Clara?
Aunt Clara (murmurs). God grant him eternal peace!