Page:Poet Lore, volume 27, 1916.djvu/56

 his virtue waxes remarkably. (In her ordinary tone.) We mustn’t frighten him till he§s run the whole gauntlet.

Vlasák (Bitterly).—Helen, we have nothing to rebuke each other with.

Helen (Recovering).—At our very souls’ foundation, not a thing.

Vlasák (After a pause, in low ardent tones).—Helen, love, do you remember what you promised me the last time? (Whispering.) Tomorrow is Thursday.

Helen (Shaking her head).—No more!

Vlasák (Reproachfully).—Helen! On account of Dušek?

Helen (Laughs. Then with greater earnestness).—On account of some one else!

(Music behind the scenes.)

Vlasák.—Don’t torture me, Helen! Am I to blame that you pity—Dušek?

Helen (Ruffling his hair).—Don’t you know what we just said to each other? That we are both alike

Vlasák (Embraces her).—Will you come tomorrow?

Helen (Gently nods her head).—At six. (Walks quickly into the other room.)

Vlasák (Enters, wearing an overcoat covered with snow. His collar is turned up. On his head, a tall silk hat.) Are you just making a fire, Mrs. Šebesta? (Turns around.) Come in, Fořt, I’ll light the lamp in a minute. ( enters, covered with snow.)