Aunt Clara. Directly, my boy!... (To Lene. ) Hurry now! There is plenty of work ahead!
Paul (subdued). Leave me alone for a little while, Auntie!
Aunt Clara (understanding him). I'll be going, Paul!
[Lene and Fritz have completed their work and go out at the right.]
Aunt Clara (in an undertone, as she goes toward the right). Have a good chat, Paul!
Paul (seriously). No occasion!
[Aunt Clara goes off at the left. One can hear her, as she closes the door on the left. Silence.]
Paul (stands undecided for a moment, then he slowly walks over to the row of oleanders, where Antoinette sits leaning back in a chair at the sofa table with her hands pressed to her face. He looks at her for a long while, then softly says). Antoinette!
Antoinette (moans to herself, without stirring). My God!... My God!
Paul (places his hand on the crown of her head). You poor ... poor child! (He sits down in the chair beside her, takes her hand which she surrenders to him passively, presses it and tenderly kisses it, saying). Sweet ... sweet Toinette!