her oppressor, her master. She was decaying in the atmosphere of equal rights, she was freezing in the embraces of the manikin who nourished her so much and so convincingly with the beauties of free love.
Friend: What are you saying?! Where did you get that from?!
Master: Baroness Nordman, that very Baroness Nordman who was tired of living satiated by the advantages of civilization, who was ready for anything to be saved from mortal ennui—she died, and changed into my slave.
Friend: Into a slave?!! You’re raving!
Master: Grusha, kiss the gentleman’s hand. (Maid takes Friend’s hand, he tears it away.)
Friend: I don’t understand why you’re hoaxing me.
Master (to Maid): Be off! (Exit Maid.) We’re not hoaxing you at all. (Turns to Companion.) She’s my slave, too, but more intimate.
Companion: I am very glad to meet you; I have heard so much of your services to learning.
Friend: Oh, really—thank you
Master: You think there are few women who are stifled by the burden of their freedom! And so
