Well, then we may as well--settle--our affair--first. (Julia, who has been standing quite still, panting, utters a low groan. At the sound of her voice, Wittich catches his breath as if suffocating, then sinks into one of the chairs at the left and stares vacantly at the floor.)
Pierre (edging up to Julia then softly).
Can you understand this?
Julia (glancing back--aside to Pierre).
Keep near the weapons!
Pierre (as Wittich moves).
Hush!
Wittich.
You must forgive me--I only wanted to--look after--my--wife. (Breaks down again.)
Pierre (aside to Julia).