Brauer.
Well, it's so.
George.
If you will allow me! The wedding was set for the twentieth; therefore
I obtained my first furlough from the nineteenth--and I trust you
realize that I can't change the dates to suit myself. I arrived on the
twentieth--and the wedding, of course--it was postponed.
Mrs. Brauer.
But, George dear, neither your home, nor anything else was ready.
George.
And besides, where am I to go? My own home is broken up; Marie has had
everything torn up. By the way, has she returned?
Gertrude.
[_Nods_.]
Mrs. Brauer.
Why, what's the matter? Have you two had another quarrel?
George.
No, certainly not; but I should not have allowed the girl to make a
drudge of herself for my sake. I almost wish I had remained at home.
Gertrude.
Why, she is not doing all this for your sake, but for mine.
George.
Now there, don't be conceited.
Mrs. Brauer.
[_Caressing her_.] I think she has cause to be conceited.
George.
As my future wife, she certainly has cause to be that.
Brauer.
There, there, don't you overrate yourself.
George.