The Ladies (in low, frightened tones): The circus woman! The
manager's wife!

Mrs.Bernick: Heavens, what does this mean?

Martha (jumping up): Ah--!

Lona: How do you do, Betty dear! How do you do, Martha! How do
you do, brother-in-law!

Mrs.Bernick (with a cry): Lona--!

Bernick (stumbling backwards): As sure as I am alive--!

Mrs.Holt: Mercy on us--!

Mrs.Rummel: It cannot possibly be--!

Hilmar: Well! Ugh!

Mrs.Bernick: Lona--! Is it really--?

Lona: Really me? Yes, indeed it is; you may fall on my neck if
you like.

Hilmar: Ugh, ugh!

Mrs.Bernick: And coming back here as--?