see beautiful places . . . wear fine clothes . . . enjoy the leisure and luxury that only rich folks can have. . . . I have thought about such things . . . and longed for them so fiercely . . . that it makes me cold and sick . . . only to think that I may not have them. . . . Oh, it's so difficult to tell you, Mr. Juhasz! My heart is so heavy!
Juhasz—Do you . . . love the count?
Paula—No.
Juhasz—Tell me the truth. . . . You can tell me now.
Paula—He isn't a man to me at all. He is only the door that leads into a new life. . . . He is rich, Mr. Juhasz, rich, rich[Hides her face in shame on his shoulder.]
Juhasz—[Half dazed.] Come with me . . . and I will be rich, too. . . . I will work for you, Paula, as no man ever worked before. . . . There are people who will help me. . . . I will be ambitious, grasping . . . until I have all the money you want. . . .
Paula—[Still has her face buried in his shoulder.] And by the time you had made your money I should be too old to want it.
Juhasz—[Bitterly.] After all, you are right, Paula. I am absurd. Another man would offer to lay down his life for the woman he loved. . . . I offer to open an account in a savings bank. [She raises her head. There is a knock at the door.]
