Hella (has become serious). I am your friend, Paul! Believe me! I desire nothing but your own good, simply because I care for you and because, I'll be frank with you, I should not want to lose you. You may be convinced of it, Paul, conceited as it may sound, but you will never find another woman like me! One with whom you can share everything! I don't know what you may have said to the Polish woman or what she may have said to you, but do you really suppose that she still knows about that today, even though the most fervent vows were exchanged?
Paul (jumps up). Hella, Hella, you do not know what you are saying.
Hella. Would you teach me to know my own sex? They aren't all like me, dear Paul. You have been spoiled by me. Very few, indeed, have attained maturity as yet, or even know what they are doing. You can depend upon very few of them. It seems to me that we are in the best possible position to know that, Paul, after our years of work. And I am to fear such competition? Expect me to be jealous of a Polish country beauty? Me,—Hella Bernhardy!... No, Paul, I have been beyond that type of jealousy for some time! (She walks up and down slowly.)
Paul (stands at the window, struggling with himself). Would it not be better to say that you have never had it?
Hella. Possibly! There are some who consider that an advantage.
Paul. Theorists, yes! The kind that I was, once upon a time. But now I know better! Now I know that the absence of jealousy was nothing but an absence of love.
Hella (energetically). That is not true, Paul. I always cared for you!
Paul. Cared! Cared! A fine word!
Hella, Why should you demand more than that? I respected you, Paul, valued you as my best friend!
Paul. All but a little word, a little word ...