ALVA. One can hear nothing here.
SCHIGOLCH. You've heard that often enough!
ALVA. I will kneel before her door.
SCHIGOLCH. Little mother's sonny! (Presses past Alva, gropes across the stage to Hunidei's coat, and searches the pockets. Alva crawls to Lulu's door.) Gloves, nothing more! (Turns the coat round, searches the inside pockets, pulls a book out that he gives to Alva.) Just see what that is. (Alva holds the book to the light.)
ALVA. (Wearily deciphering the title-page.) Warnings to pious pilgrims and such as wish to be so. Very helpful. Price, 2 s. 6 d.
SCHIGOLCH. It looks to me as if God had left him pretty completely. (Lays the coat over the chair again and makes for the cubby-hole.) There's nothing doing with these people. The country's best time's behind it!
ALVA. Life is never as bad as it's painted. (He, too, creeps back.)
SCHIGOLCH. Not even a silk muffler he's got and yet in Germany we creep on our bellies before this rabble.
ALVA. Come, let's vanish again.
SCHIGOLCH. She only thinks of herself, and takes the first man that runs across her path. Hope the dog remembers her the rest of his life! (They disappear, left, shutting the door behind them. Lulu re-enters, setting the lamp on the table. Hunidei follows.)