[_Dr Scholz enters through the glass door. He is unusually tall, broad-shouldered, very bloated. The face is fat, complexion muddy, the eyes sometimes glittering, with wandering glances, but usually dull and lack-lustre. He has a grey, stubbly beard, partially covering his cheeks; his movements are clumsy and tremulous; he speaks brokenly, as if with his mouth full; stumbles over syllables, and is interrupted by gasping inspirations. He is slovenly dressed: a velvet vest, coat and trousers of nondescript colour, once brown—cap with a large peak, stone-grey in colour, peculiar in shape; red silk neckerchief, linen creased. He uses a large Turkish pocket handkerchief. On entering he carries a malacca cane with a staghorn crook in his right hand, and has flung about him a large military cloak, over his left arm a fur foot-bag._ DR SCHOLZ. Servus! servus! MRS SCHOLZ (_staring at him as if at an apparition_). Fritz!— DR SCHOLZ. As you see. MRS SCHOLZ (_throwing her arms about him with a scream_). Fritz!! AUGUSTA (_opens the door L., starts back_). Father! [_Mrs Buchner goes off backwards through the left door, her eyes fixed on Dr Scholz._ DR SCHOLZ. Yes, yes, yes, it’s I. But first of all—is Friebe there? FRIEBE (_peeping through kitchen door, starts—coming forward_). The doctor! (_He rushes to him and seizes and kisses both his hands._) Now, would anyone have believed it! DR SCHOLZ. St!—Just go and see—see that the house door is shut. [_Friebe nods and obeys with joyful alacrity._ MRS SCHOLZ. But Fritz, tell me—only tell me, my mind’s all confused (_weeping, embraces him_). Ah Fritz! what grief you’ve caused me all this long, long time. DR SCHOLZ (_putting his wife gently from him_). Ah well, my life too—we’d better not begin with reproaches. You’re just the same doleful old thing (_with gentle bitterness_). Anyhow I should certainly not have troubled you—if it hadn’t been for—(_Friebe takes his cloak, etc._) There are times in life, dear Minna—if one has powerful enemies as I have— [_Friebe goes out through the stairway with the Dr’s belongings._ MRS SCHOLZ (_pretending to be cross_). Nobody _made_ you come, Fritz. Here there has always been a safe, cosy home;—you could have lived so comfortably here. DR SCHOLZ. Don’t be cross—you don’t understand. MRS SCHOLZ. Ah yes! I’m only a simpleton, I suppose,—but really, you weren’t answerable to anyone; it wasn’t at all necessary for you— DR SCHOLZ. —St! It was very necessary (_half mysteriously_). After guilt, atonement; after sin, chastisement. MRS SCHOLZ. Yes, yes, Fritz,—it is true—you too had much to answer for. (_From here to the end of the conversation, she continually looks with anxiety towards the front door, as though she feared every moment to see William come in._) We might have been so peaceful, so contented, if you had only let us. DR SCHOLZ. It was all my fault, all of it. MRS SCHOLZ.