ALVA. Yes, a more interesting piece could be written about her. (Sits, right, and takes out his note-book. Writes. Looks up.) First act: Dr. Goll. Rotten already! I can call up Dr. Goll from purgatory or wherever else he's doing penance for his orgies, but I'll be made responsible for his sins. (Long-continued but much deadened applause and bravos outside.) They rage there as in a menagery when the meat appears at the cage. Second act: Walter Schwarz. Still more impossible! How our souls do strip off their last coverings in the light of such lightning-strokes! Third act? Is it really to go on this way? (The attendant opens the door from outside and lets Escerny enter. He acts as though he were at home, and without greeting Alva takes the chair near the mirror. Alva continues, not heeding him.) It can not go on this way in the third act!
ESCERNY. Up to the middle of the third act it didn't seem to go so well to-day as usual.
ALVA. I was not on the stage.
ESCERNY. Now she's in full career again.
ALVA. She's lengthening each number.
ESCERNY. I once had the pleasure of meeting the artiste at Schön's.
ALVA. My father has brought her before the public by some critiques in his paper.
ESCERNY. (Bowing slightly.) I was conferring with Dr. Schön about the publication of my discoveries at Lake Tanganika.
ALVA. (Bowing slightly.) His remarks leave no doubt that he takes the liveliest interest in your work.
ESCERNY. It's a very good thing in the artiste that the public does not exist for her at all.