Mopsa (takes a little housewife out of her pocket). Spreta said you had lost the button off the back of your collar. I thought I would sew it on for you. May I? (With quiet warmth.) I'll try not to run the needle into you.
Alfred (absently). Do; it may distract my thoughts a little. Where is Spreta, by the way?
Mopsa. Only taking a little walk with Blochdrähn. (Sewing.) Perhaps it is hardly the weather for a stroll; but then he was always so perfectly devoted to—h'm—to Little Mopsëman, you know.
Alfred (surprised). But Spreta wasn't. She never liked him—not even as a puppy. And now tell me—don't you think you could take a fancy to Blochdrähn—h'm?
Mopsa. Oh, no! Please! (Covers her face with her hands.) You mustn't really ask me why. (Looks at him through her fingers.) Because I know I should tell you; you have such an irresistible influence over me. Oh dear! oh dear! what will you think of me? (Moves close up to him.) There's a button off your shirt-front now!
Alfred (plaintively). Am I to have that one sewn on too?
Mopsa. Yes, it's the right thing to do. Though how Spreta can let you go about like this, I can't think!
Alfred (with a half smile). When I have you to look after me. This is quite like the dear old days!
Mopsa. Yes. (Sewing.) I remember I mended all your things, like a sister. Even then you never had quite all your buttons, had you, dear?
Alfred (patting her hand). Not even then. And do you remember how you used to follow me about, just like a little dog? And I used to call you "Little Mopsëman," because your name was Mopsa; and if I had had a dog, I should have called him Little Mopsëman. And then how you used to sit up and hold a biscuit on your nose, my dear faithful Mopsa!