Perhaps. I can't decide. [Going toward corridor at R.]
Gaspard (following her).
By all means let your wish be gratified.
Accept my counsel.—Stop one moment, please.
Eloise (hurrying off).
I'll think of it. Good-night. [Exit Eloise at R.]
Gaspard.
Nay, stop, Eloise!
Agree that when the clock strikes twelve you'll fare,
On timorous tiptoe, by the large North stair,
Down to this hall— [He pauses, looking off R.]
She's vanished like a dream!
Still, trust to fate, Gaspard, and work your scheme.
[Exit Gaspard at R., slapping breast confidently.
Enter the Baron Beautemps at L. The Baron is disguised as Santa Claus. He wears a white wig, a dark jerkin, with ruffled breeches reaching a little below the knee; he carries a pack of toys upon his back: he has a long white beard; his shoulders are sprinkled with powdery substance, representing snow. He turns on entering, and looks at the two stockings hung before chimney-place with a fond, happy smile.]
Baron.