But what has he complained of? FRIEBE. That—I wasn’t to—tell— MRS SCHOLZ. Is it true though? (_Friebe nods._) But he can’t have spoken of his death? FRIEBE. Ah, more than that,—he’s said pretty things! MRS SCHOLZ. Now for goodness sake do try and speak clearly. Drunken creature! FRIEBE (_angry_). Yes, I’m—neither the gardener nor the boot boy; and as to what may happen—I shouldn’t need—in every position what I want most—in my position, but no!—Now you have the whole thing clear! [_He wheels round, goes off into the kitchen._ MRS SCHOLZ. The man’s gone crazy. [_Ida enters through door of the adjoining room, shuts it behind her; opening it a little again she calls into the room._ IDA. Wait, good people. Quiet! No impatience! WILLIAM (_pressing into the room_). But I want to help. IDA. No one else, then. [_Ida and William light Christmas Tree candles._ MRS SCHOLZ. But, William, listen a minute. WILLIAM (_busy_). Directly, little mother.—Just ready. [_The Christmas Tree, the candelabra and the chandelier are lighted. Ida removes a large table cover which has been thrown over presents on the table. William goes to his mother._ IDA (_calls through door R_). Now! [_Mrs Scholz, who is just going to speak to William, is interrupted by the entrance of Dr Scholz, who is followed by Augusta, Robert and Mrs Buchner. Dr Scholz, his face reddened with drinking._ DR SCHOLZ (_with affected astonishment_). Ah! Ah! MRS BUCHNER. Fairylike! [_Augusta smiles constrainedly; Robert goes about pipe in mouth at first embarrassed, then smiling more and more ironically. William notices this with great annoyance._ IDA (_draws William to the table where the presents lie_). Don’t laugh at me, Willy. [_Gives him his purse._ WILLIAM. But—Ida—I begged you— IDA. I crocheted it once for father. The year before his death he used it often, and so I thought— WILLIAM (_with increasing embarrassment under Robert’s eyes_). Yes—yes.—Ever so many thanks, Ida! ROBERT. Things only want to be more practical. MRS SCHOLZ (_who has been led to the table by Mrs Buchner_). But what have you been doing! You cannot—I have nothing for you. (_Seeing a crocheted shawl._) No, no! Only think!—You crocheted that for me—an old woman like me? Well then, I do thank you, many, many times. [_They kiss one another._ MRS BUCHNER. Ah! I’m only too glad if it pleases you. MRS SCHOLZ. Beautiful—wonderful—lovely. The time and the trouble! I never! IDA. I’ve something for you too, Mr Robert, but you mustn’t laugh at me! ROBERT (_getting scarlet_). Ah! what now? IDA. I thought—your pipe—the next thing it will be burning your nose and so I’ve had pity on you, and yesterday I—(_Shows a new pipe which she has hitherto held behind her back and gives it to him._) Here is the masterpiece! [_All amused._ ROBERT (_without taking the pipe_). You’re joking, Miss Ida! IDA.