Rosa
Can we trust her?
Hans
She's our daughter.
Rosa
She's a child—
Hans
Rosa, we have no choice.
Rosa
He looks like death.
Hans
He's probably forgotten what food tastes like.
Rosa
And what are we going to feed him on? We barely have enough to feed ourselves.
Hans
We will make do.
Rosa
Oh, "we will make do."
Hans
We have always known that, one day, this may happen. Hmm?
Rosa
We could turn him in tomorrow. The authorities would understand— We could say it was late at night—
Hans
Rosa.
Rosa
I know.
Hans
He came to us. I owe his family everything.
Rosa
I know.
