_
NEUMANN
[_Counting out money._] Comes to one and seven-pence halfpenny.
WEAVER'S WIFE
[_About thirty, emaciated, takes up the money with trembling fingers._]
Thank you, sir.
NEUMANN
[_Seeing that she does not move on._] Well, something wrong this time,
too?
WEAVER'S WIFE
[_Agitated, imploringly._] Do you think I might have a few pence in
advance, sir? I need it that bad.
NEUMANN
And I need a few pounds. If it was only a question of needing it--!
[_Already occupied in counting out another weaver's money, gruffly._]
It's Mr. Dreissiger who settles about pay in advance.
WEAVER'S WIFE
Couldn't I speak to Mr. Dreissiger himself, then, sir?
PFEIFER
[_Now manager, formerly weaver. The type is unmistakable, only he is well
fed, well dressed, clean shaven; also takes snuff copiously. He calls out
roughly._] Mr. Dreissiger would have enough to do if he had to attend to
every trifle himself. That's what we are here for. [_He measures, and
then examines through the magnifying-glass._] Mercy on us! what a
draught! [_Puts a thick muffler round his neck._] Shut the door, whoever
comes in.
APPRENTICE
[_Loudly to PFEIFER._] You might as well talk to stocks and stones.
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