_Schmidt._ She haf not told me!

_Jack._ One look would have told you. She ought to go home and stay
in bed for a week.

She ought to be sent away somewhere--the city is no place for one in
her condition. _(Belle leans Her head against the table.)_ There!
There! _(Pats her on the arm.)_ Why, she's as thin as a rail! How
could you work a girl so?

_Schmidt._ Who is to do her work?

_Jack._ I'll do it myself--

_Schmidt._ You?

_Jack._ Of course. Why can't I do it? Why can't I do it right along?

_Schmidt._ Vot? Take her place?

_Jack._ Certainly. Let her go home and stay.

_Belle._ No, no! I can't give up.

_Jack._ It won't be giving up. It'll be resting. I'll bring you the
money--I can pay you back that way.

_Belle._ But how will you live?

_Jack._ I don't know. I'll make out. He'll feed me. _(To Schmidt.)_