There, now you are unjust again. DR SCHOLZ. Well, I won’t argue with you; many have banded together against me, that’s certain—for instance, in the hotels, the waiters—not one night could I sleep in peace—up and down, up and down, in the corridors—and always just in front of _my_ door. MRS SCHOLZ. But come now, they wouldn’t have disturbed you on purpose! DR SCHOLZ. No—? oh you!—you don’t understand! MRS SCHOLZ. Well, well, it may be, waiters are sometimes very mean. DR SCHOLZ. Mean!—I should think they are.—However, we can speak of that later. I have rather a headache—(_puts his hand on the back of his head_). There! that’s another disgraceful thing! I know well enough whom I have to thank for that! I’ll just see whether I can’t drive it away with a sound sleep—I am very tired. MRS SCHOLZ. But there’s no fire upstairs, Fritz! DR SCHOLZ. Think of that. From Vienna without stopping and no fire!—Never mind; Friebe will have seen to that. Tell me about Friebe—I mean—is he still as trustworthy? MRS SCHOLZ. Friebe is—what he always was. DR SCHOLZ. I was sure of it—well for the present—(_after he has pressed his wife’s hand, he turns with a deep thoughtful expression and goes towards the staircase. Noticing the Christmas tree, he stops and looks at it forlornly._) What is that? MRS SCHOLZ (_disturbed, shamefaced, and a little frightened_). We’re keeping Christmas. DR SCHOLZ. Keeping Christmas!—(_after a long pause, lost in memories_) It’s a long—long—time (_turning and speaking with real emotion_). And you—you’ve grown quite white! MRS SCHOLZ. Yes, Fritz—both of us! [_Dr Scholz nodding turns away and goes off through stairway L._ MRS BUCHNER (_entering quickly from R._). So your husband has come back? MRS SCHOLZ. It’s as though—as if—I don’t know—Christ! what am I to think! MRS BUCHNER. That it is a gift, dear friend, for which we must all be thankful. MRS SCHOLZ. Ah! what he looks like! How he has lived! What an existence!—from one country to another, from one town to—ah! he’s gone through something! [_Mrs Buchner is going to stairway._ MRS SCHOLZ. What are you going to do? MRS BUCHNER. Tell Ida of the joyful event. [_Goes off through stairway._ MRS SCHOLZ. Oh yes!—no, no,—what are you thinking of! We mustn’t let that out. If my husband finds out that anyone but himself lives up there, I should get into nice trouble. MRS BUCHNER (_from the stairs_). I’ll go very gently. MRS SCHOLZ. Yes, quite gently.—That would be dreadful! MRS BUCHNER. I’m going quite gently. MRS SCHOLZ. Oh God-oh-God-oh-God!—Well—very, very gently! AUGUSTA (_hastily entering from R._). Father is here? MRS SCHOLZ (_beside herself_). Why, of course! And now what’s to be done! The next thing will be William—Oh! the deadly fear I’ve been in! if he and his father were to meet! Any minute he may come in! What an experience to go through for an old woman like me! AUGUSTA.