get his money back. Nobody would buy it, you know.

THE INCA. May I ask why?

ERMYNTRUDL. Well, look at it! Just look at it! I ask you!

THE INCA [his moustache drooping ominously]. I am sorry to have
to report to the Inca that you have no soul for fine art. [He
rises sulkily.] The position of daughter-in-law to the Inca is
not compatible with the tastes of a pig. [He attempts to take
back the brooch.]

ERMYNTRUDE [rising and retreating behind her chair with the
brooch]. Here! you let that brooch alone. You presented it to me
on behalf of the Inca. It is mine. You said my appearance was
satisfactory.

THE INCA. Your appearance is not satisfactory. The Inca would not
allow his son to marry you if the boy were on a desert island and
you were the only other human being on it [he strides up the
room.]

ERMYNTRUDE [calmly sitting down and replacing the case on the
table]. How could he? There would be no clergyman to marry us. It
would have to be quite morganatic.

THE INCA [returning]. Such an expression is out of place in the
mouth of a princess aspiring to the highest destiny on earth. You
have the morals of a dragoon. [She receives this with a shriek of
laughter. He struggles with his sense of humor.] At the same time