QUINCY No, don't say that--promised the Baron I'd always do all I could for----

VERA You promised? You dared discuss my affairs?

QUINCY It was your father began it. When he found I knew you, he almost wept with emotion. He asked a hundred questions about your life in America.

VERA His life and mine are for ever separate. He is a Reactionary, I a Radical.

QUINCY But he loves you dreadfully--he can't understand why you should go slaving away summer and winter in a Settlement--you a member of the Russian n.o.bility!

VERA [_With faint smile_]

I might say, _n.o.blesse oblige_. But the truth is, I earn my living that way. It would do _you_ good to slave there too!

QUINCY [_Eagerly_]

Would they chain us together? I'd come to-morrow.

[_He moves nearer her. There is a double knock at the door._]

VERA [_Relieved_]

Here's Pappelmeister!

QUINCY Bother Poppy--why is he so darned punctual?

[_Enter KATHLEEN from the kitchen._]

VERA [_Smiling_]

Ah, you're still here.

KATHLEEN And why would I not be here?

[_She goes to open the door._]

PAPPELMEISTER Mr. Quixano?

KATHLEEN Yes, come in.

[_Enter HERR PAPPELMEISTER, a burly German figure with a leonine head, spectacles, and a mane of white hair--a figure that makes his employer look even coa.r.s.er. He carries an umbrella, which he never lets go. He is at first grave and silent, which makes any burst of emotion the more striking. He and QUINCY DAVENPORT suggest a picture of "Dignity and Impudence." His English, as roughly indicated in the text, is extremely Teutonic._]

QUINCY You're late, Poppy!

[_PAPPELMEISTER silently bows to VERA._]

VERA [_Smilingly goes and offers her hand._]

Proud to meet you, Herr Pappelmeister!

QUINCY Excuse me---- [_Introducing_]

Miss Revendal!--I forgot you and Poppy hadn't been introduced--curiously enough it was at Wiesbaden I picked him up too--he was conducting the opera--your folks were in my box. I don't think I ever met anyone so mad on music as the Baron. And the Baroness told me he had retired from active service in the Army because of the torture of listening to the average military band. Ha! Ha! Ha!

VERA Yes, my father once hoped _my_ music would comfort him.

[_She smiles sadly._]

Poor father! But a soldier must bear defeat. Herr Pappelmeister, may I not give you some tea?

[_She sits again at the table._]

QUINCY Tea! Lager's more in Poppy's line.

[_He chuckles._]

PAPPELMEISTER [_Gravely_]

_Bitte._ Tea.

[_She pours out, he sits._]

Lemon. Four lumps.... _Nun_, five!... Or six!

[_She hands him the cup._]

_Danke._ [_As he receives the cup, he utters an exclamation, for KATHLEEN after opening the door has lingered on, hunting around everywhere, and having finally crawled under the table has now brushed against his leg._]

VERA What are you looking for?

KATHLEEN [_Her head emerging_]

My nose!

[_They are all startled and amused._]

VERA Your nose?

KATHLEEN I forgot me nose!

QUINCY Well, follow your nose--and you'll find it. Ha! Ha! Ha!

KATHLEEN [_Pouncing on it_]

Here it is!

[_Picks it up near the armchair._]

OMNES Oh!

KATHLEEN Sure, it's gotten all dirthy.

[_She takes out a handkerchief and wipes the nose carefully._]

QUINCY But why do you want a nose like that?

KATHLEEN [_Proudly_]

Bekaz we're Hebrews!

QUINCY What!

VERA What _do_ you mean?

KATHLEEN It's our Carnival to-day! _Purim._ [_She carries her nose carefully and piously toward the kitchen._]

VERA Oh! I see.

[_Exit KATHLEEN._]

QUINCY [_In horror_]

Miss Revendal, you don't mean to say you've brought me to a Jew!

VERA I'm afraid I have. I was thinking only of his genius, not his race. And you see, so many musicians are Jews.

QUINCY Not _my_ musicians. No Jew's harp in my orchestra, eh?

[_He sn.i.g.g.e.rs._]