Amelia—Yes, yes, that’s what I say [she begins to dance]. Little one, were you ever held in the arms of the one you love?
The Dove—Who knows?
Amelia—If we had not been left an income we might have been in danger—well, let us laugh [she takes a few more dance steps]. Eating makes one fat, nothing more, and exercising reduces one, nothing more. Drink wine—put flesh on the instep, the instep that used to tell such a sweet story—and then the knees—fit for nothing but prayers! The hands—too fat to wander! [she waves her arm]. Then one exercises, but it’s never the same; what one has, is always better than what one regains. Is it not so, my little one? But never mind, don’t answer. I’m in an excellent humour—I could talk for hours, all about myself—to myself, for myself. God! I’d like to tear out all the wires in the house! Destroy all the tunnels in the city, leave nothing underground or hidden or useful, oh, God, God! [She has danced until she comes directly in front of The Dove. She drops on her knees and lays her arms on either side of The Dove.] I hate the chimneys on the houses, I hate the doorways, I hate you, I hate Vera, but most of all I hate my red heels!
The Dove—[Almost inaudibly.] Now, now!
Amelia—[In high excitement.] Give me the sword! It has been sharpened long enough, give it to me, give it to me! [She makes a blind effort to find the sword; finding The Dove’s hand instead, she clutches it convulsively. Slowly The Dove bares Amelia’s left shoulder and breast, and leaning down, sets her teeth in. Amelia gives a slight, short stifled cry. At the same moment Vera appears in the doorway with the uncorked bottle. The Dove stands up swiftly, holding a pistol. She turns in the doorway hastily vacated by Vera.]
The Dove—So! [She bows, a deep military bow, and turning goes into the entry.]
The Voice of The Dove—For the house of Burgson! [A moment later a shot is heard.]
Amelia—[Running after her.] Oh, my God!
Vera—What has she done?
Amelia—[Reappearing in the doorway with the picture of the Venetian courtesans, through which there is a bullet hole—slowly, but with emphasis.] This is obscene!