would act in my place . . . but this is how I feel. . . . But there! Are you crying again?
Adele—It's unbearable how good you are!
Juhasz—Shouldn't I have said that?
Adele—Peter . . . this isn't just a passing fancy, as you suppose. I not only love this man. . . .
Juhasz—What else?
Adele—I want to belong to him. [A pause.]
Juhasz—That is . . . more serious. [Takes an aimless pace or two, sits down, puts his head in his hands.] When you said that . . . I felt so . . . lonely . . . all of a sudden.
[A delivery boy enters at the door. He carries three big packages and a rocking-horse.]
Delivery Boy—Mr. Peter Juhasz?
Juhasz—[Goes to him.] Yes, yes. From the toy store?. . . All right, my son, just put them down. [Gives the boy a tip; calls.] Adolf!
Delivery Boy—Thank you, sir. Good night. [The boy exits at the door. Adolf enters through the archway.]
Juhasz—For your little boy's birthday to-morrow. A horse, a steamship and an automobile. And this is for your little girl, so that she won't feel slighted.
Adolf—[Tries to kiss his hand.] Oh, thank you . . . thank you, sir!
Juhasz—Yes, yes. Take them away. . . . Or,
