The Lady (_shuddering involuntarily_).

No--no! (v. Wolters _turns the key in the keyhole unavailingly._) Won't it work?--Heavens, why your hand is trembling. Let me have it.

v. Wolters (_with a last attempt at resistance_).

The keys were entrusted to _me_, Countess.

The Lady (_coaxingly_).

Oh, do let me have it. (_Sits at the writing-table and opens the drawer. With a low cry of surprise._) Empty!

v. Wolters (_bending over her_).

Empty?

The Lady.

Are you sure that this was----?

v. Wolters.

Yes, that was the drawer in which he kept his private papers. I'm sure of it.

The Lady (_staring straight ahead_).

Well, how can you explain----?

v. Wolters.

Perhaps he burned everything.

The Lady (_springing to her feet_).

And perhaps not!--Who knows?--This is the way he played with the honour of the woman who gave him all! This is my thanks! This is the action of a gentleman!

v. Wolters.

No gentleman, Countess, can do more than let himself be shot for a woman.

The Lady.

Who asked him to do it? Was it my fault if jealousy of Renoir drove him mad? And perhaps this is really his revenge! Perhaps we'll live to see even more interesting disclosures!--This is my reward! This-- (Daisy _appears at the door in the centre._) What do you want?

Daisy.

I beg your pardon. My lady is looking for--letters?

The Lady.

So you've been in there eavesdropping, have you?

Daisy.

I brought in a wreath.

The Lady.

Well, what do you know about my letters?

Daisy.

Here they are. (_Takes a small package of letters from her dress and hands it to_ The Lady.) I intended to give them to you _secretly_ when you left.

The Lady.

(_s.n.a.t.c.hes the letters from her hand and looks at them._) How do you happen to have these letters?

Daisy (_wonderingly_).

Why, how should I happen to have them? He gave them to me.

The Lady.

To you? Who are you? Why to you?

Daisy.

Because he knew that I would do exactly what he told me to do.

The Lady (_to_ v. Wolters).

Can you understand this?

v. Wolters (_gently_).

What did he tell you to do, Daisy?

Daisy.

He said to me, "These letters belong to the lady who used to come to see me sometimes. No one is to know about her--not even Herr von Wolters.--When I am dead, the lady will----

v. Wolters.

Did he say that?

Daisy.

Yes. "When I am dead, the lady will probably come here again. If she does, give her these letters. If she doesn't, then burn them with the others."