Krakau. All right. [He rises.]
Helms. Where are you going?
Krakau [at the chiffonier]. We forgot the flowers.
Helms. Oh, yes!
Krakau. They smell so fragrant. [Puts them on the table.]
Helms [takes a flower and puts it in Krakau's buttonhole]. You must wear one.
Krakau [overcome]. Thank you, Helms, thank you. [They bend over the chessboard again.]
Helms [rubs his hands with delight]. Now white moves.
Krakau [considering]. White moves.... I should say ... there ... that pawn ... I'd sacrifice it.
Helms [picks it up with playful tenderness]. Poor little white pawn! [Places it on the board.]