Antoinette (suppressed). Possibly I have too.
Paul. Why, Antoinette, you are weeping? (He stands behind her and tries to look into her face.)
Antoinette (wards him off). I? Not at all!
Paul (heavily). You are weeping, Antoinette!
Antoinette (sinks down). I can't help it. (She surrenders to her pain, but quietly and softly, making her appear all the more touching.)
Paul (kindly). Come, madam! Let me conduct you to the sofa. (About to take her arm.)
Antoinette (refusing). I can go alone. Why do you concern yourself about me at all?
Paul. Antoinette! Don't be stubborn at this moment! Our time is short. Who knows whether we shall ever speak to each other again as we now do. (He leads her forward a short distance.)
Antoinette. All the better!
Paul. Our time is awfully short. I cannot let you go away so! We must make use of the moment! (Bitterly.) The moment that will possibly never return. (He has slowly led her to the front of the stage.)