things to you . . . and making sacrifices for you . . . with another man's money . . . you were inwardly laughing at me all the time.
Paula—I cried, Mr. Juhasz.
Juhasz—It wasn't necessary to cry or to laugh or to take all these secret precautions to get rid of me. You need only have told me the truth. [On the terrace at back a servant girl appears. She is carrying Juhasz's overcoat and bag. He sees her and turns to Philip.] Come, Philip. [His voice is low and trembling with sorrow and humiliation.] Let us go. [They start up toward the door.]
Paula—Mr. Juhasz . . . won't you forgive me . . . and shake hands . . . before you go? Juhasz—[Going; does not look at her.] Good-bye, Miss Paula. Paula—Have you forgotten all you said to me? You are leaving me alone . . . alone with him. [Juhasz stops, turns to her slowly. Seeing this, she gathers courage.] You are leaving me like this because your pride is hurt. You don't care any more . . . what becomes of me.
Juhasz—[Opens his mouth, closes it again, wavers, then suddenly roars at Philip, who has been looking on in blank amazement.] Why do you stand there like a blockhead? Why don't you take me away from here? Can't you see I am about to stay? [Philip takes his arm and leads him out at back:
