should have gone under if I had'nt written.
CLEMENS: Then what have you written this time?
MARGARET: A novel. I had too much on my mind; I was
sufforated.- Until today I have concealed it from pou; but
in the end it must come out. Kunigel is charmed with it.
CLEMENS: Vho is Künigel?
MARGARET: My publisher.
CLEDENS: Then he has read it?
MARGARET: Yes, and many more shall read it. Believe me,
Clemens, you will be proud of me.
CLEMENS: You are mistaken, dear child. I find that most...
What have you written about?
MARGARET: That is easily told; the novel kreats, for the
greater part, of things about which there is most to be
said.
CLEMENS: I am all attention.
MARGARET: And therefore, I can promise you that from
now on I will not touch a pen - it is no longer necessary.
CLEMENS: Do you love me, or not, Margaret?
MARGARET: How can you ask? You, only you. much as I
have seen; much as I have experienced; I have not lived -
I waited for you.