PARIS. I found this in there. It looks rather well, doesn't it? Ah! So you're alone. I suppose that stupid friend of yours has gone to tell the King. When do I see the Queen?
ANALYTIKOS. At once. [He goes to the door of the QUEEN'S apartment and claps his hand. TSUMU enters and at the sight of her PARIS recoils the full length of the room.]
PARIS. I thought the Queen was a blonde!
ANALYTIKOS. Tell Her Majesty a stranger awaits her here. [TSUMU exits, her eyes wide on PARIS.] You should thank the Gods for this moment.
PARIS [his eyes on the door]. You do it for me. I can never remember all their names.
[HELENA enters clad in her Sicily blue, crowned with a garland of golden flowers. She and PARIS stand riveted, looking at each other. Their attitude might be described as fatalistic. ANALYTIKOS watches them for a moment and then with hands and head lifted to heaven he goes into the library.]
PARIS [quivering with emotion]. I have the most strange sensation of having seen you before. Something I can't explain——
HELENA [quite practically]. Please don't bother about all sorts of fine distinctions. Under the influence of Analytikos and my husband, life has become a mess of indecision. I'm a simple, direct woman and I expect you to say just what you think.
PARIS. Do you? Very well, then—— [He comes a step nearer to her.] Fate is impelling me toward you.
HELENA. Yes. That's much better. So you're a fatalist. It's very Greek. I don't see what our dramatists would do without it.