put the blame on Jesus, as Christine does--no, I am too proud for
that, and know too much--thanks to my father's teachings--And that
about a rich person not getting into heaven, it's just a lie, and
Christine, who has money in the savings-bank, wouldn't get in
anyhow. Whose is the fault?--What does it matter whose it is? For
just the same I am the one who must bear the guilt and the results--

JEAN. Yes, but--

[Two sharp strokes are rung on the bell. MISS JULIA leaps to her
feet. JEAN changes his coat.]

JEAN. The count is back. Think if Christine-- [Goes to the
speaking-tube, knocks on it, and listens.]

JULIA. Now he has been to the chiffonier!

JEAN. It is Jean, your lordship! [Listening again, the spectators
being unable to hear what the count says] Yes, your lordship!
[Listening] Yes, your lordship! At once! [Listening] In a minute,
your lordship! [Listening] Yes, yes! In half an hour!

JULIA. [With intense concern] What did he say? Lord Jesus, what did
he say?

JEAN. He called for his boots and wanted his coffee in half an
hour.

JULIA. In half an hour then! Oh, I am so tired. I can't do
anything; can't repent, can't run away, can't stay, can't live—-