BERTHA. Absolutely sure.
[Axel rings; after a moment the maid comes in.]
AXEL [To maid]. Go fetch a locksmith.
MAID. A locksmith?
AXEL. Yes, a smith who can pick a lock.
[Bertha gives the maid a look.]
MAID. Right away, monsieur.
[Maid goes out. Axel changes his coat, discovers the order on the lapel, tears it off and throws it on the table.]
AXEL. Pardon me, ladies!
BERTHA [Mildly]. Don't mind us. Are you going out?