Countess. To you, to be sure—How could I be so thoughtless—This villainous Figaro.
Page. After the scene of the great chair this morning he will certainly murder me if he finds me here.
Countess. Run into my dressing-room and lock the door on the inside. (the Countess opens the door to the Count.)
Enter the COUNT.
Count. You did not use to lock yourself in, when you were alone, Madam! Who were you speaking to?
Countess. (Endeavouring to conceal her agitation) To—To Susan, who is rumaging in her own room.
Count. But you seem agitated, Madam.
Countess. That is not impossible (affecting to take a serious air) We were speaking of you.
Count. Of me!