Clement. Oh ... Herr Gilbert, if I'm not mistaken?
Gilbert. Yes, Baron. Happening to pass this way on a journey to the south, I could not refrain from coming to pay my respects ...
Clement. Ah, I see ... (Pause.) I'm afraid I have interrupted a conversation—I should be sorry to do that. Please don't let me be in the way.
Gilbert (to Margaret). Ah ... what were we talking about?
Clement. Perhaps I may be able to assist your memory. In Munich you always used to be talking about your books ...
Gilbert. Ah ... precisely. As a matter of fact, I was speaking of my new novel ...
Clement. Oh ... then please go on. It's quite possible to discuss literature with me—isn't it, Margaret? What is your novel? Naturalist! Symbolist? A chapter of experience?
Gilbert. Oh, in a certain sense we all write but of things we have lived.
Clement. That's very interesting.
Gilbert. Even when one writes a Nero, it's absolutely indispensable that at least in his heart he shall have set fire to Rome ...