CULVER (_intimidated, as she goes_). Look here, hurricane! (_He rushes
out after her_.)

_Enter_ Hildegarde _and_ Tranto, _back_.

HILDEGARDE (_seeing the room empty_). Well, I thought I heard them.

TRANTO (_catching noise of high words from the boudoir_.) I fancy I _do_
hear them.

HILDEGARDE. Perhaps we'd better go.

TRANTO. But I want to speak to you--just for a moment.

HILDEGARDE (_moving uneasily_). What about?

TRANTO. I don't know. Anything. It doesn't matter what ... I don't hear
them now.

HILDEGARDE (_listening and hearing nothing; reassured_). I should have
thought you wouldn't have wanted to come here any more for a long time.

TRANTO. Why?

HILDEGARDE. After the terrible experiences of last night, during dinner
and after dinner.

TRANTO. The general constraint?

HILDEGARDE. The general constraint.