Yaìch. Has her mind been affected long?
Koch. Ever since she was a little child.
Yaìch. A—a—a, yes—of course it would be better if she had more sense. But, after all, it’s not bad to have a foolish wife—once the other considerations are all right, you know.
Koch. But, my good sir, she hasn’t a sixpence!
Yaìch. What! But the stone house?
Koch. Oh! it’s only called stone; but if you knew the way it’s built! It’s just coated over with stucco outside; but the walls are made of all kinds of rubbish—chips, and splinters, and rubble, and what-not.
Yaìch. You don’t say so!
Koch. Of course. Why, don’t you know the way houses are built nowadays? They only build houses so as to be able to mortgage them.
Yaìch. But this house isn’t mortgaged, surely?
Koch. How do you know that? It’s a good deal worse; it’s not only mortgaged, but the interest hasn’t been paid for the last two years. Then they’ve got a brother in the Senate, who has his eye on the house. He’s the most pettifogging hair-splitter that ever was born; the rascal would fleece his own mother of her last petticoat!