I can’t understand all that. Reconciled—to what?—That’s what I can’t see. As a rule, we understand one another fairly well in this family. But this is quite beyond me! I’ve nothing to say against him, but on the other hand there’s no disguising facts.—I ask you—do you imagine that I have any exaggerated respect for my father?—Of course not.—Or that I have any—love—for him?—Or any childlike feeling of gratitude?—You see, I haven’t the slightest reason for any such feeling. In all our lives, the most that we have ever been to each other, has been a source of amusement. At moments, when we have blamed each other for our common unhappiness, we have actually hated each other. Well, between father and William this same hatred grew. That I understand well enough. That I haven’t done what William did is perhaps an accident. So I have nothing against him—_nota bene_, so long as I don’t see him. But if I see him, then all my logic goes to the devil, for I am rather,—rather—h’m, what shall I say?—Well, _then_ I only see the man who has struck my father, not his, but _my_ father, struck him in the face! MRS BUCHNER. Oh my God!— ROBERT. And then I can answer for nothing—you see?—absolutely for nothing. MRS BUCHNER. My God!—Was that it!—Struck him, you say?—In—the—f—, in the face? His own father?— ROBERT. Just that. MRS BUCHNER (_half beside herself_). Oh my God!—But then—then I can indeed!—Ah! then I must speak to him at once.—Your good old father—for— ROBERT (_quite startled_). To whom?— MRS BUCHNER (_bursting into tears_). To your poor dear old ill-treated father! ROBERT (_trying to restrain her_). For heaven’s sake what can you— MRS BUCHNER. Let me go—I must—I must—! [_Goes through stairway._ ROBERT (_calling after her_). Mrs Buchner! (_Turning back_) Damned hysteria!—