Paul. Why like a sin?
Antoinette. You were just remarking about the rest, and now you are doing the same thing, forgetting the dead.
Paul. I—forget him? I am thinking of him incessantly! And of his last words, before we parted forever! Do you know what they were, Toinette?
Antoinette (subdued). Tell me!
Paul. "Go! Some day you will be sorry!" ... Possibly he was right, the dear old man! Today it kept resounding from his open grave, as the clods and lumps of snow rumbled down on his coffin. "Are you sorry now? Are you sorry now?" ... I have tried to get rid of it, but it refuses to go. It keeps pursuing me and cries into my ears!
Laskowski (has approached the two). Well, dearie, how are you? What are you doing?
Antoinette (turns around, as if recoiling from something poisonous). Oh, it's you!
Laskowski. Who would it be? Ain't it up to me to look after my dearie now and then. Shan't we eat? They are all sitting down.
Paul (has become composed). Your husband is quite right, madam. We are the last. Unfortunately Mrs. Warkentin is not very well. May I request you to play the part of the hostess a bit?
Antoinette (distressed). If it must be, Doctor ...