Paula—[Low, shyly.] If you think I
Juhasz—You need them. [Ardently.] Of course you need them. . . . Perfume. . . . Exquisite heur.
Paula—No, indeed!
Juhasz—Yes. Three bottles.
Paula—I hate the stuff.
Juhasz—I adore it. It's the most beautiful scent on earth. Four bottles!
Paula—If you like it so much . . . you may order a barrel. [There is a brief pause.]
Juhasz—[Jealously.] And . . . what about the telegram?
Paula—[Rises slowly.] I wonder how it is . . . that some people can have such tender hearts and such very thick heads! [He hesitates a moment, then he takes her head in his hands and kisses her. Philip and the Aristocratic Lady re-enter.]
Philip—Cash! Two hundred and forty. [Shouts.] Cash! Two hundred and forty. [Juhasz and Paula separate hastily. Juhasz slinks bashfully down right.]
Aristocratic Lady—[She is carrying a package.] How interesting! [Goes to the cashier's desk.] My husband is going to Wiesbaden. I hear your mother will be there too.
Paula—My mother is at home, madame, and intends to stay there.
