Paul (sits down in the chair at the fireplace, restraining his pain). Be quiet, Aunt Clara!... Do you want to make me even more miserable than I am?
Aunt Clara (gets up, steps up to him and lays her hand on his head). My poor, poor boy!
ACT II
The forenoon of the following day. The gloomy light of a winter day comes in through the wide windows at the background of the hall, as on the day before. Outside, white bushes and trees loom up vaguely. A dark velvet cover is spread over the sofa table now. A fire again biases in the fireplace.
In front of it on the left sits Glyszinski with his feet toward the fire and a book in his hand. He is again faultlessly clad in a black suit; looks pale. At his right, in the center chair Hella reposes comfortably. She likewise holds a book and looks as if she had been reading. As on the previous day, her dress is dark, but not black.
Hella. These awful visits of condolence all day yesterday! If calls of that kind continue today, I'll simply lock myself in and fail to appear. Let Paul settle it as he may.
Glyszinski. And yet! How easily and graciously you can dispose of the good people. I can't get over my astonishment.
Hella. Yes and then to feign a sadness that one does not remotely feel, cannot feel! What an idea!
Glyszinski (after a moment of reflection, whispering). Do you know what makes me glad?
Hella (curtly). No, possibly you will tell me.