LULU. Out with you. Come back to me when you have regained your strength again.
SCHÖN. Tell me in God's name what I must do.
LULU. (Gets up; her cloak remains on the chair. Shoving aside the costumes on the centre table.) Here is writing-paper—
SCHÖN. I can't write....
LULU. (Upright behind him, her arm on the back of his chair.) Write! "My dear young lady...."
SCHÖN. (Hesitating.) I call her Adelheid ...
LULU. (With emphasis.) "My dear young lady ..."
SCHÖN. My sentence of death! (He writes.)
LULU. "Take back your promise. I cannot reconcile it with my conscience—" (Schön drops the pen and glances up at her entreatingly.) Write conscience!—"to fasten you to my unhappy lot...."
SCHÖN. (Writing.) You are right. You are right.