Count—And yet I love him as I would my own son. [Kisses Paula's hand.]
Paula—I must pretend to be working. If he comes in and finds me just talking to you, he'll be unhappy again.
Count—No fear of that now. . . . He is a long way from here.
Paula—As if that mattered! He divines the fact that we are together. And he can find me with his eyes shut. [Taps once or twice on the machine.] Please don't let him catch us like this.
Count—This is intolerable, Paula. It can't go on. One of the reasons I sent for you was to tell you that I mean to get rid of Juhasz to-day.
Paula—[Sorrowfully.] Your excellency. . . .
Count—There is a dairyman named Mate, a wholly untrustworthy fellow, whom he won't dismiss. That gives me a perfect excuse, and I intend to make use of it. For I can't let this sort of thing go on indefinitely. He's always on your heels like a watch-*dog, and I'm sick of it. . . . It isn't enough that he's practically useless around the place . . . but he demoralizes everything with that benevolence of his . . . my dignity . . . even my cheese. . . . And to crown it all he makes me play the comedian in my own house. In order to be alone with you I must give you dictation. And in order to give you
