We'll see what kind a story he'll give her.


NICKLAUSSE (to Spalanzani).

Won't she take supper?


SPALANZANI.

No.


NICKLAUSSE (aside).

Poetic soul!

(Spalanzani goes behind Olympia. Noise of a spring is heard. Nicklausse
turns around.)

What did you say?


SPALANZANI.

Nothing, physics! ah, monsieur, physics!

(He conducts Olympia to a chair. Goes out with guests).