Hossefrosse. [Turning back again to Florence] It may as well be at my expense as anybody else’s. [Mr. Spindler’s elbow slips off the piano onto the keyboard, striking a perfectly villainous chord, and causing everybody to turn and look in that direction.]
Mrs. Pampinelli. Mr. Spindler, please.
Spindler. [Adjusting his goggles, which have been slightly dislodged by the incident] I’m sorry. [Mrs. Pampinelli turns back to Hossefrosse.] Never mind, Mr. Hossefrosse, it will come.
Florence. Your position can’t afford it.
Hossefrosse. [Taking a step towards the right] I’ve given them nothing to talk about.
Florence. No? [He stops abruptly and turns and looks at her.]
Hossefrosse. What? [He takes a couple of steps towards her.]
Florence. [Rising] Please, Clyde!—[She crosses in front of the table at the left and goes towards him. Mrs. Ritter gets up from the partition-seat and comes down to the table at the right, below the piano.] You’re not talking to your office-boy—[Mrs. Ritter picks up the little chair from the left of the table and starts back again towards the center-door.] Let us get to the point.
Hossefrosse. Very well.
Mrs. Ritter and Hossefrosse, together.