on her back.

MERTENS. But is well preserved.

MRS. BOROWSKI (to PAUL). I say, Mr. Warkentin, I knew your father when
he was no bigger than ... (Holding her hand not far from the ground.)

PAUL (subdued). Fifty years ago?

MRS. BOROWSKI. Oh, it's longer than that. Almost sixty. I saw them all
grow up. Now I'm almost the only one left from those times.

LASKOWSKI (leans over toward her with his glass). Well, here's to you
Auntie!... You don't drink very much any more I suppose? (He drinks.)

MRS. BOROWSKI. Oh, indeed! I am still able to take a glass.

PAUL. Come, Mrs. Borowski, let me help you. (He fills her glass.)

MRS. BOROWSKI. When I was young I never caught sight of wine. Now that
I'm old I have more than I can drink.

LASKOWSKI. Drink ahead, Auntie! Drink ahead! Wine makes you young!

MRS. BOROWSKI. You know, your good wife is always sending me some.

LASKOWSKI (nonplussed). I do say, dearie, why, I don't know a thing
about that.

[ANTOINETTE silently shrugs her shoulders and casts a quick
glance at him.]

LASKOWSKI (friendly again). Makes no difference, dearie, no difference
at all! Just send ahead! We do have a lot of it.

ANTOINETTE. There is surely enough for us to spare a little for an old
lady.

LASKOWSKI. Sure, dearie!

MRS. BOROWSKI (leans over to ANTOINETTE). Do you remember, pet, how you
used to come and call with your parents, now dead and gone? A little
bit of a thing you were, Paul would lift you on the horse and you
didn't cry at all, you sat there just like a grown-up ... I remember it
very well.

ANTOINETTE. I don't. Such things _are_ forgotten.

PAUL (looks at her). Have you really forgotten that, madam?

ANTOINETTE. Heavens, I haven't thought of it again.

MRS. BOROWSKI. Just wait and see, pet, when you are old you will think
of it again.

ANTOINETTE. Not all people grow to be as old as you, dear Mrs.
Borowski.

LASKOWSKI (has partaken freely of the wine). Dearie, you'll grow as old
as the hills! I can prophesy that much. Haven't you the finest kind of
a time!

ANTOINETTE. I?... Of course!

LASKOWSKI (garrulously). What do you lack!... Nuthin'!... Children's
what you lack!

ANTOINETTE (looks at him sharply). Never mind, please!

LASKOWSKI (abashed). Well, well, don't put on so, dearie!

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (to PAUL). Have you any children, Doctor?

PAUL. No, I'm sorry to say, madam.

MR. VON TIEDEMANN (to his wife). We're better off in that respec