Julie.[Strikes hint in the face with her handkerchief.] Is he inquisitive?
John. Ah! what a nice smell of violets.
Julie.[Coquettishly.] Impudent person! Is the fellow then an expert in perfumes? [She goes behind the table.]
John.[With gentle affectation.] Have you ladies then been brewing a magic potion this Midsummer Night? Something so as to be able to read one’s fortunes in the stars, so that you get a sight of the future?
Julie.[Sharply.] Yes, if he manages to see that, he must have very good eyes. [To CHRISTINE.] Pour it into a half bottle and cork it securely. Let the man come now and dance the schottische with me. John? [She lets her handkerchief fall on the tafrle.]
John.[Hesitating.] I don’t want to be disobliging to anybody, but I promised Christine this dance.
Julie. Oh, well, she can get somebody else. [She goes to CHRISTINE.] What do you say, Christine? Won’t you lend me John?
Christine. I haven’t got any say in the matter. If you are so condescending, Miss, it wouldn’t at all do for him to refuse. You just go and be grateful for such an honor.
John. Speaking frankly, and without meaning any offense, do you think it’s quite wise, Miss Julie, to dance twice in succession with the same gentleman, particularly as the people here are only too ready to draw all kinds of conclusions?
Julie.[Explodes.] What do you mean? What conclusion? What does the man mean?