LEONARD.

Why did you blush then, when he looked back at you?

CLARA.

I thought he was looking at the little mole on my left cheek to see if
it, too, had grown bigger! You know I always imagine people are looking
at that when they stare at me so, and it always makes me blush. I have a
feeling as if it _were_ growing larger, as long as they look at it!

LEONARD.

However that may be, it got on my nerves, and I thought to myself: This
very evening I will put her to the test! If she wants to become my wife,
she knows that she risks nothing. If she says no, then--

CLARA.

Oh, you said a bad, bad word, when I pushed you back and jumped up from
the bench. The moon, which up to that time had shone in through the
foliage with such kindly consideration for me, at that moment sank
shrewdly behind the wet clouds. I wanted to hurry away, but felt
something holding me. At first I thought it was you, but it was the
rose-bush, whose thorns held my dress like teeth. You outraged my heart,
so that I no longer trusted it myself. You stood before me like one
demanding the payment of a debt! I--Oh, God!

[Illustration: ALFRED RETHEL DEATH AS CUP-BEARER]