GER. [Enters, left.] That pious old fraud! [Sits in chair.] Well, I'm safe for a while!
[Sprawls at ease and reads.]
HICKS. [Enters, centre.] A gentleman to see you, Mr. Gerald.
GER. Hey? [Takes card, looks, then gives violent start.] Prince Hagen! [Stands aghast, staring; whispers, half dazed.] Prince Hagen!
HICKS. [After waiting.] What shall I tell him, sir?
GER. What... what does he look like?
HICKS. Why... he seems to be a gentleman, sir.
GER. How is he dressed?
HICKS. For dinner, sir.
GER. [Hesitates, gazes about nervously.] Bring him here... quickly!