John. That’s true.
Julie. And the results?
John. The results? Where was I wool-gathering not to have thought about it? Yes, there’s only one thing to do—to clear out at once. I won’t go with you, because then it’s all up, but you must travel alone—away—anywhere you like.
Julie. Alone? Where? I can’t do it.
John. You must. And before the Count comes back too. If you stay then you know what will be the result. If one has taken the first step, then one goes on with it, because one’s already in for the disgrace, and then one gets bolder and bolder—at last you get copped—so you must travel. Write later on to the Count and confess everything except that it was me, and he’ll never guess that. I don’t think either that he’d be very pleased if he did find out.
Julie. I’ll travel, if you’ll come with me.
John. Are you mad, Miss? Do you want to elope with your servant? It’ll all be in the papers the next morning, and the Count would never get over it.
Julie. I can’t travel, I can’t stay. Help me! I am so tired, so infinitely tired—give me orders, put life into me again or I can’t think any more, and I can’t do any more.
John. See here, now, what a wretched creature you are! Why do you strut about and turn up your nose as though you were the lord of creation? Well, then, I will give you orders, you go and change your clothes, get some money- to travel with and come down here again.
Julie.[Sotto voce.] Come up with me.