Theresa.—But my husband will hardly return to-day. And you can see that we are moving. There’s no time for it to-day.
Valenta.—That’s just why I took the liberty to-day, Gnädige Frau, as long as we are, as it were, still neighbors.
Theresa.—Neighbors?
Valenta.—Certainly (pointing to the windows), Gnädige Frau does not know me, but I know her very well.
Theresa (not noticing his motion).—No, I do not know you.
Valenta.—And I know the doctor, very well, too, and also that young gentleman who always sits over the law books—there. When a man sees the same faces every day for fifteen years, he knows them like his own family.
Theresa (disturbed).—You watched our faces daily for fifteen years. That’s terrible! But from where?
Valenta (goes to the window and points).—From there, Gnädige Frau.
Theresa (frightened).—That’s the madhouse—man—did you escape from there?
Valenta (smiling).—I am not a lunatic. I was the caretaker of the inmates there, Gnädige. But I was unfortunate. Every man has his enemies, and I am the victim of mine. We had a new superintendent and he believed the report that I drugged and mistreated the patients there. So, yesterday, he discharged me. After fifteen years, Gnädige, it is hard, and so in my distress, I wondered if the doctor and you could not assist me with employment of some sort. A person who lives across the way for fifteen years and notices everything that goes on in the opposite apartment, and sees day after day who.comes in and who goes out, he feels that they are sort of old acquaintances, Gnädige Frau, begging your pardon.
Theresa.—You have spied on us for fifteen years. And you use that as an inducement for me to employ you! That is a strange recommendation.
Valenta.—Good Lord, Gnädige, you cannot blame me. When I had to sit there (pointing at the windows) with nothing
