one of his sons, I should like a fair one that doesn't shave, with soft hair and a beard. I couldn't bear being kissed by a bristly person. [She runs out, the Manager bowing as she passes. He follows her.]
Ermyntrude whips off her waterproof; hides it; and gets herself swiftly into perfect trim at the mirror, before the Manager, with a large jewel case in his hand, returns, ushering in the Inca.
THE MANAGER. Captain Duval.
The Inca, in military uniform, advances with a marked and imposing stage walk; stops; orders the trembling Manager by a gesture to place the jewel case on the table; dismisses him with a frown; touches his helmet graciously to Ermyntrude; and takes off his cloak.
THE INCA. I beg you, madam, to be quite at your ease, and to speak to me without ceremony.
ERMYNTRUDE. [moving haughtily and carelessly to the table]. I hadn't the slightest intention of treating you with ceremony. [She sits down: a liberty which gives him a perceptible shock.] I am quite at a loss to imagine why I should treat a perfect stranger named Duval: a captain! almost a subaltern! with the smallest ceremony.
THE INCA. That is true. I had for the moment forgotten my position.
ERMYNTRUDE. It doesn't matter. You may sit down.
THE INCA. [frowning.] What!
ERMYNTRUDE. I said, you. . . may. . . sit. . . down.
THE INCA. Oh. [His moustache droops. He sits down.]
ERMYNTRUDE. What is your business?
THE INCA. I come on behalf of the Inca of Perusalem.
ERMYNTRUDE. The Allerhöchst?
