PIERROT: That's so. Give me a hand there, Columbine.
[PIERROT and COLUMBINE pull down the table cover in such a way
that the two bodies are hidden from the house, then merrily set
their bowls back on the table, draw up their chairs, and begin
the play exactly as before.]
COLUMBINE: Pierrot, a macaroon,—I cannot live without a macaroon!
PIERROT: My only love, You are so intense! ... Is it Tuesday, Columbine?— I'll kiss you if it's Tuesday.
[Curtains begin to close slowly.]
COLUMBINE: It is Wednesday, If you must know. ... Is this my artichoke Or yours?
PIERROT: Ah, Columbine, as if it mattered! Wednesday. . . . Will it be Tuesday, then, to-morrow, By any chance? . . .
[CURTAIN.]