ROSE: Oh, I hope you don't mean my singing kills you.
PAUL: No—for then, I'm afraid I wouldn't be in heaven. What was that song?
ROSE: An old Persian poet taught me the words.
PAUL: (Ardently.) Oh, how I love—those words. Are you going back to America with Mr. and Mrs. Schuyler?
ROSE: (Sadly.) No, I must stay here in Persia.
PAUL: (Forgetting himself.) Hooray!
ROSE: Ah—but you don't know.
PAUL: Know what?
ROSE: Don't ask me now—good day, sir. (She courtesies and runs off.)
(Music in orchestra stops.)