LITTLE MOPSËMAN.
THE THIRD ACT.
An elevation and rockery in Früyseck's back-garden, from which—but for the houses in between—an extensive view over the steamer-pier and fiord could be obtained. In front, a summer-house, covered with creepers and wild earwigs. On a bench outside, Mopsa is sitting. She has the inevitable little travelling-bag on a strap over her shoulder. Blochdrähn comes up in the dusk. He, too, has a travelling-bag, made of straw, containing professional implements, over his shoulder. He is carrying a rolled-up handbill and a small paste-pot.
Sanitary Engineer Blochdrähn (catching sight of Mopsa's handbag). So you really are off at last? So am I. I'm going by train.
Mopsa (with a faint smile). Are you? Then I take the steamer. Have you seen Alfred anywhere about—or Spreta?
San. Eng. Bloch. I have been seeing a good deal of Mrs. Früyseck. She asked me to come up here and paste one of these handbills on the summer-house. To offer a reward for Little Mopsëman, you know. I've been sticking them up everywhere. (Busied with the paste-pot.) But you'll see—he'll never turn up.
"It takes two to connect the ventilating shaft with the main drainage."
Mopsa (sighing). Poor Spreta! and oh, poor dear Alfred! I really don't know if I can have the heart to leave him.
San. Eng. Bloch. (pasting up the bill). I shall not believe it myself until I actually see you do it. But why shouldn't you come along with me, if you are going—h'm?