Dušek (Frees himself from Vlasák’s hold).—I’ll answer for it but not to you. (Suddenly, hearing a rustle in the vestibule.) Aha! (Jumps to the door of the vestibule flings it wide open and screams into the darkness.) Who is here? (A pause.) No one? Oho! (Runs into vestibule.)
Vlasák (Behind him).—I’ll kill you, you blackguard!
Dušek (In the vestibule).—Shut up! (Throws Vlasák bodily into the room. In a moment he bursts in himself dragging by the hand the resisting figure of Helen enveloped in a cloak with a shawl on her head. In the light he looks into her face.) Miss He— (Groans. In a broken voice.) Really? (Lets go of Helen’s hand and sinking into a chair, drops his head into his hands.)
(Helen erect and pale at the door.)
Vlasák (Glances at Helen then throws himself upon Dušek.)—Villain!—(Wants to throw him.)
Helen (Holding him back).—Hush, doctor! (Seeking to control herself.) Ask this gentleman to leave at once! (Draws the shawl from her head and loosens the cape.)
Dušek (Gazing at her, with a smile of suffering).—You are right, Miss Lindner—I can go now! I have convinced myself of that which even a moment ago seemed to me the most shameful lie. (Rising.) And if you wish, I will also even forgive. (Starts to go.)
Helen (Abruptly, in a commanding tone).—Wait! I don’t want you to go away with the notion that I have robbed you of something. You are probably vain enough for that! If either one of us is to forgive anything, (Haughtily) it is I! Your vanity and also your crudeness—(Laughs disdainfully) and likewise your baseness in spying on me within a few hours after the moment when you pleaded for my love! (Commandingly pointing to the door.) And now go!
Dušek (Utterly undone).—Miss—Lind—ner(Clasps his hands.) At least, don’t believe that I spied on you!
Helen (With contempt).—Go, hypocrite!
Vlasák (Scornfully).—Mr. Dušek, there is the door!
Dušek (Made furious by his words).—You—keep still! (Tossing his head.) But no—even you shall know all! A while ago when here, here—(Points towards writing desk) I opened my whole heart to you, you still had the right to cry me down. You might have called me a madman or a fool—as you wished!—if there had been one drop of honesty in your make-up. You could have spat in my face when I avowed my love for Miss
