Podb. I rather like this place, you know—sort of rest. And we could always nip over to Ems, or Homburg, if it got too slow, eh?
Culch. If I nip over anywhere, I shall nip to Nuremberg. We may just as well understand one another, PODBURY. If I'm to provide money for both of us, it's only reasonable that you should be content to go where I choose. I cannot, and will not, stand these perpetual interferences with our original plan; it's sheer restlessness. Come with me to Nuremberg, and I shall be very happy to be your banker. Otherwise, you must stay here alone.
[He compresses his lips and crosses his legs.
Podb. Oh, that's it, is it? But look here, why not tit up whether we go on or stay?
Culch. Why should I "tit up," as you call it, when I've already made up my mind to go. When I once decide on anything, it's final.
The Bride (to Bridegroom, without enthusiasm). Would you like me to roll you a cigarette?
Bridegroom (with the frankness of an open nature). Not if I know it. I can do it better myself.
Bride (coldly). I see.
[Another silence, at the end of which she rises and walks slowly away, pausing at the gate to see whether he intends to follow. As he does not appear to have remarked her absence, she walks on.