Ah, _povera bestia_--yes, I forgot. And, mamma!--yes, mamma! I haven't looked at you yet. How pretty you've grown! You used to have an air of belated youth about you that was not becoming. But now you're a dear, old little mother. One wants to lay one's head quietly in your lap. I will, too. It'll do me good. Ah, what fine quarrels we used to have! I was a contrary little beast. And you held up your end. But now we'll smoke the pipe of peace, sha'n't we? MRS. SCHWARTZE. You're joking with me, Magda. MAGDA. Sha'n't I? Mayn't I? There, there,--pure love, pure love. We will have nothing but love. We shall be the best of friends. FRANZISKA. [_Who has for a long time tried to attract attention_.] And we also, eh, my dear Magda? MAGDA. _Tiens, tiens_! [_Examines her critically through her lorgnette_.] Same as ever. Always active? Always, as of old, the centre of the family? FRANZISKA. Oh-- MAGDA. Well, give us your hand! There. I never could bear you, and shall never learn, I'm afraid. That runs in the blood, doesn't it? FRANZISKA. I have already forgiven you. MAGDA. Really! Such magnanimity! I hardly-- Do you really forgive everything? From top to bottom? Even that you stirred up my mother against me before she ever came into the house? That you made my father--[_Puts her hand to her lips_.] _Meglio tacere! Meglio tacere!_ MARIE. [_Interrupting_.] For Heaven's sake, Magda! MAGDA. Yes, my darling--nothing, not a word. FRANZISKA. She has a fine presence! MAGDA. And now let me look about me! Ah, everything's just the same. Not a speck of dust has moved. MRS. SCHWARTZE. I hope, Magda, that you won't find any specks of dust. MAGDA. I'm sure of that, _mammina_. That wasn't what I meant. Twelve years! Without a trace! Have I dreamed all that comes between? SCHWARTZE. You will have a great deal to tell us, Magda. MAGDA. [_Starting_.] What? Well, we will see, we will see. Now I should like-- What would I like? I must sit still for a moment. It all comes over me so. When I think-- From that door to the window, from this table to the old bureau,--that was once my world. SCHWARTZE. A world, my child, which one never outgrows, which one never should outgrow--you have always held to that? MAGDA.