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THE MAKROPOULOS SECRET

What may I offer you, Miss Marty?

[Playing with him]

Oh, I see. You want to pay me—what do you call it?—a percentage.

Now, please. Use some other word. Call it gratitude. How could I spend?

I have enough myself.

Excuse me. Only a beggar could have enough. The rich, never.

Look here! You good-for-nothing boy, stop offering me money!

Excuse me. I’m afraid I don’t know how to offer gifts. [He gets down on his knees] Lady, they call you the divine Marty, but in this world of ours, even a divinity would ask for a share. It’s only right. Understand, I speak of millions.

You’re giving it away already. Oh, you little fool!

[She goes to the window and looks out]