Mrs.Rummel: No, of course I don't mean we, but--
Dina: I should like to see a circus very much.
Olaf: So should I.
Hilmar: You are a duffer. Is that anything to see? Mere tricks.
No, it would be something quite different to see the Gaucho
careering over the Pampas on his snorting mustang. But,Heaven
help us, in these wretched little towns of ours.
Olaf (pulling at MARTHA'S dress): Look, Aunt Martha! Look, there
they come!
Mrs.Holt: Good Lord, yes--here they come.
Mrs.Lynge: Ugh, what horrid people!
(A number of passengers and a whole crowd of townsfolk, are seen
coming up the street.)
Mrs.Rummel: They are a set of mountebanks, certainly. Just look
at that woman in the grey dress, Mrs. Holt--the one with a
knapsack over her shoulder.
Mrs.Holt: Yes--look--she has slung it on the handle of her
parasol. The manager's wife, I expect.
Mrs.Rummel: And there is the manager himself, no doubt. He
looks a regular pirate. Don't look at him, Hilda!
Mrs.Holt: Nor you, Netta!
Olaf: Mother, the manager is bowing to us.
Bernick: What?
Mrs. Bernick: What are you saying, child?
Mrs. Rummel: Yes, and--good Heavens--the woman is bowing to us
too.
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