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THE MAKROPOULOS SECRET

After seven.

Put out the light and be quiet.

And his lips were almost blue, the lips of that servant. I thought he was going to faint. [She starts combing Emilia’s hair] And the tears in his eyes.

You’re pulling my hair. You pull—give me the comb. Now look. See how much hair you’ve pulled out.

But my hands tremble so. Something must have happened.

I’m not going to let you pull my hair out, just because of that. Now, hurry up. [Prus returns from the corridor with an unopened letter in his hand] It didn’t take you long. [Prus searches with his hand for a chair to sit down] What will you have for breakfast?

[Hoarsely]

Send—that girl