Lieders twisted his feet under the rungs of his chair;
he opened his mouth, but only to shut it again with a click
of his teeth.

"I got my mind made up, papa. I tought and I tought. I know WHY you
done it; you done it 'cause you and the boss was mad at each other.
The boss hadn't no righd to let you go ------"

"Yes, he had, I madded him first; I was a fool. Of course I knowed
more than him 'bout the work, but I hadn't no right to go against him.
The boss is all right."

"Yes, papa, I got my mind made up"--like most sluggish
spirits there was an immense momentum about Thekla's mind,
once get it fairly started it was not to be diverted--"you
never killed yourself before you used to git mad at the boss.
You was afraid he would send you away; and now you have
sent yourself away you don't want to live, 'cause you
do not know how you can git along without the shop.
But you want to get back, you want to get back more as you want
to kill yourself. Yes, papa, I know, I know where you did used
to go, nights. Now"--she changed her speech unconsciously
to the tongue of her youth--"it is not fair, it is not fair
to me that thou shouldst treat me like that, thou dost belong
to me, also; so I say, my Kurt, wilt thou make a bargain with me?
If I shall get thee back thy place wilt thou promise me never
to kill thyself any more?"

Lieders had not once looked up at her during the slow,
difficult sentences with their half choked articulation;