Min. Cannot surely be so unexpected! (Approaching him, whilst he draws back still more.) Am I to pardon you because I am still your Minna? Heaven pardon you, that I am still Fräulein von Barnhelm!
Fran. Stop, I say, stop! If my mistress knows now what she is to have for dinner, it will be all over with her appetite. Come, we must talk that over in private. (Drags him off.)