Anna Goldhair. No.
Hans Lorbass. Where have the women gone, then,--those wanton flaunting blossoms of his?
Anna Goldhair. He sprang up from the table to-night and drove them out with scourging.
Hans Lorbass. How was he before that?
Anna Goldhair. His greeting long since stiffened into silence and sternness. All night long his feet have wandered up and down the echoing passages.
Hans Lorbass. And to-night--which way did he go?
[Anna Goldhair motions towards the left.]
Hans Lorbass. Give me a light.
Anna Goldhair [as she takes a taper from the table and gives it to him]. Hans!
Hans Lorbass. Well?