Frau Heinecke. You've scraped and slaved for them for ten years! Robert. Oh, it wasn't as bad as that, Mother. But now let's not talk about them this way any more. Every day we have one reason or other for thanking the Muhlingks. The letters I had from the Councillor, and from Kurt especially,--he's a partner now,--were like letters from a close friend. Heinecke. Kurt--Oh, he's a fine young gentleman! But as for the rest--"The Moor has paid his debt"[4] as the Berliner says--show me the rabble! (Robert _swallows his answer and turns away, frowning_) But, Bobby, look around! Don't you notice anything? He don't see anything, Mother! Frau Heinecke. Oh, stop your chatter! Heinecke. Chatter! Ho! When I try to welcome my dear son back to his father's house, then it's chatter! (_Leads_ Robert _to the placard_) W--what do you say to that, eh? Robert. Did you make that, Father, you with your lame arm? Heinecke. Ah! I make lots of things. If the poor old cripple didn't take a hand this fine family would have starved long ago!--(_Rather roughly_) What are you standing there staring at. Mother? Where's the coffee? Frau Heinecke. Well, well! (_Starts to go_) Robert. (_Hurrying after her_) Oh, Mother, he didn't mean anything! Frau Heinecke. Mean anything? Ha! Ha! he's only talking that way to make you think he's the man of the house! (_She goes out_) Robert. (_After a pause, he tries to soothe over the unpleasantness_) You still paste boxes. Father? Heinecke. Still at it! Robert. And the arm doesn't bother you? Heinecke. My arm, ha! ha! ha! my arm! Do you want to see how I do it! First the pasteboard--so--then the fold--so! (_With great speed he sweeps the pastebrush across two sheets of cardboard, pressing them into place with his left elbow_) Who could beat your old cripple at that? Robert. You are a regular juggler. Heinecke. That's what! But who admits it? Who appreciates me? Who appreciates me? Nobody! How could the daughters--one of 'em already a Missus--respect me when their own mother gives 'em such a bad example! Robert. (_Indignantly_) Father! Heinecke. Yes, you're a long way from her lap--far away cows have long horns--There, it's "dear little Mother! sweet little sister!"--But if you knew what I've had to stand! Not once does she give me horse-car-fare when I want to go to town for a glass of beer! Robert. Are you quite fair to her? Doesn't she cherish you as the apple of her eye? Heinecke. Lord, I didn't mean to say anything against her--shh!--here she comes! (_Enter_ Frau Heinecke _with a steaming coffee-pot_) Sit down, Bobby,--No, here in the arm-chair! Wait a minute! (_Pulls off the covering from the chair_) Such a fine gentleman ought to sit on pure silk! Frau Heinecke. Yes, and the other's just the same! Two pieces we've got! And have you seen the pier-glass? All gold creepers, and the glass in one piece! Augusta's husband says it cost at least two hundred marks! Robert. Where did all these wonderful things come from.