RAINA.
(rising quickly, as she sees the coat on Nicola’s arm). Here it is, papa. Give it to me, Nicola; and do you put some more wood on the fire. (She takes the coat, and brings it to the Major, who stands up to put it on. Nicola attends to the fire.)
PETKOFF.
(to Raina, teasing her affectionately). Aha! Going to be very good to poor old papa just for one day after his return from the wars, eh?
RAINA.
(with solemn reproach). Ah, how can you say that to me, father?
PETKOFF.
Well, well, only a joke, little one. Come, give me a kiss. (She kisses him.) Now give me the coat.
RAINA.
Now, I am going to put it on for you. Turn your back. (He turns his back and feels behind him with his arms for the sleeves. She dexterously takes the photograph from the pocket and throws it on the table before Bluntschli, who covers it with a sheet of paper under the very nose of Sergius, who looks on amazed, with his suspicions roused in the highest degree. She then helps Petkoff on with his coat.) There, dear! Now are you comfortable?
PETKOFF.
Quite, little love. Thanks. (He sits down; and Raina returns to her seat near the stove.) Oh, by the bye, I’ve found something funny. What’s the meaning of this? (He put his hand into the picked pocket.) Eh? Hallo! (He tries the other pocket.) Well, I could have sworn—(Much puzzled, he tries the breast pocket.) I wonder—(Tries the original pocket.) Where can it—(A light flashes on him; he rises, exclaiming) Your mother’s taken it.
RAINA.
(very red). Taken what?
PETKOFF.
Your photograph, with the inscription: “Raina, to her Chocolate Cream Soldier—a souvenir.” Now you know there’s something more in this than meets the eye; and I’m going to find it out. (Shouting) Nicola!
NICOLA.
(dropping a log, and turning). Sir!
PETKOFF.
Did you spoil any pastry of Miss Raina’s this morning?