Daisy.
No, that wouldn't be safe.
v. Wolters.
Well, what shall we do?
v. Daisy (breathing heavily).
I'll--think of something.
v. Wolters.
His death grieves you, too, dear child?
Daisy.
Me? Oh, yes--me too. (She goes out. v. Wolters walks to and fro, pauses to listen in front of the curtain, turns on the electric lamp, again walks to and fro, etc. At a slight movement of the curtain, he stops, expectant. The Lady, still veiled, comes forward slowly until she has reached one of the chairs on the left. A pause.)