Adolf. Not that I know of. [Adolf goes to the open door in the center]. Yes. You can hear the steamer in the Sound now—she'll be here soon. And I must go down to meet her.
Gustav [holding him back]. No, stay here. Be rude to her. If she's got a good conscience she'll let you have it so hot and strong that you won't know where you are. But if she feels guilty she'll come and caress you.
Adolf. Are you so sure of it?
Gustav. Not absolutely. At times a hare goes back in the tracks, but I'm not going to let this one escape me. My room is just here. [Points to the door on the right and goes behind Adolf's chair.] I'll keep this position, and be on the look-out, while you play your game here, and when you've played it to the end we'll exchange parts. I'll go in the cage and leave myself to the tender mercies of the snake, and you can stand at the keyhole. Afterwards we'll meet in the park and compare notes. But pull yourself together, old man, and if you show weakness I'll knock on the floor twice with a chair.
Adolf [getting up]. Right. But don't go away: I must know that you're in the next room.
Gustav. You can trust me for that. But be careful you aren't afraid when you see later on how I can dissect a human soul and lay the entrails here on the table. It may seem a bit uncanny to beginners, but if you've seen it done once you don't regret it. One thing more, don't say a word that you've met me, or that you have made any acquaintance during her absence—not a word. I'll ferret out her weak point myself. Hush! She's already up there in her room. She's whistling—then she's in a temper. Now stick to it. [He points to the left.] And sit here on this chair, then she'll have to sit there [He points to the sofa on the left.], and I can keep you both in view at the same time.
Adolf. We've still got an hour before dinner. There are no new visitors, for there has been no bell to announce them. We'll be alone together—more's the pity!
Gustav. You seem pretty limp. Are you unwell?
Adolf. I'm all right; unless, you know, I'm frightened of what's going to happen. But I can't help its happening. The stone rolls, but it was not the last drop of water that made it roll, nor yet the first—everything taken together brought it about.
Gustav. Let it roll, then; it won't have any peace until it does. Good-by, for the time being.