[OLGA crosses to L. below couch.
DEVIL, bows politely; embarrassing silence
Suppose we talk about something else. I think we are in for a snowstorm.
[Standing R. of studio door. Silence.
[OLGA stands near the door leading to the studio, quite astonished.
Are you sending anything to this year's exhibition?
KARL, uncomfortable
Perhaps—I may send something.
[Silence. The DEVIL lights a cigarette at table L. C.
DEVIL, puffs cigarette. On second puff
Permit me, Madame.
[OLGA, picking up blouse, as if suddenly awakened and realizing her position, goes into the studio, closing the door behind her.