The Devil

by Ferenc Molnár

[Breaks down.

—because I love him.

[Begins to sob bitterly.

DEVIL

Allow me—

[Takes a little handkerchief out of the satchel and gives it to her.

I always carry this with me—it's my weeping satchel—everything a woman needs for weeping.

ELSA, weeps a little harder; sobbing, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief

I love him.

[During the following dialogue the DEVIL takes out of the weeping satchel a little looking-glass, small comb, powder and puff, and gives her one after another.