Cha. (taking chair down front of scene, and sitting). Madam, this is the second time it is my good fortune to save your life to-night, in return for which—
Luc. (advancing with a cup of tea in one hand, whilst with the other she keeps him down in the chair). Then, sir, I am to understand that, notwithstanding all the misfortunes connected with your nickname, you have still hope.
Cha. Yes,—hope, that poor little creature that nothing can kill.
Luc. It is, then, this hope that takes you to Baden?
Cha. Baden is, as far as I’m concerned at this moment, my last hope in this world; then, if my luck is once more against me, if fortune fails to help me, if that poor little creature, hope, succumbs to bad luck, why, then—
Luc. You’ll go and join your mother.
Cha. Yes, madam, I shall go.
[Endeavoring to turn round.
Luc. If you do that, I shall have to tie you with my handkerchief. Don’t you think now, joking apart, that it would be wiser, without tempting fortune at Baden, to go to your “mother at once”? (Waltz music again.) She’d play to you again. (Listening.) Come, do you hear that waltz? and when you hear it once more by her side,—that dear mother,—you’ll be happy, and—
Cha. Ah! then, in reading my letter, you evidently did not understand, did not comprehend.