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The Magistrate
[Emphatically.] Yes.
Liliom
[After an astounded pause.] The police down there never said that.
The Magistrate
You beat that poor, frail girl; you beat her because she loved you. How could you do that?
Liliom
We argued with each other—she said this and I said that—and because she was right I couldn't answer her—and I got mad—and the anger rose up in me—until it reached here [points to his throat] and then I beat her.
The Magistrate
Are you sorry?
Liliom
[Shakes his head, but cannot utter the word "no"; continues softly.] When I touched her slender throat—then—if you like—you might say [Falters, looks embarrassed at The Magistrate.]
The Magistrate
[Confidently expectant.] Are you sorry?
