ALLMERS. [Shrugging his shoulders.] The book? Oh, the book--

ASTA. Yes, I was sure you would find it go so easily when once you
got away.

ALLMERS. So I thought too. But, do you know, I didn't find it so at
all. The truth is, I have not written a line of the book.

ASTA. Not a line?

RITA. Oho! I wondered when I found all the paper lying untouched in
your bag.

ASTA. But, my dear Alfred, what have you been doing all this time?

ALLMERS. [Smiling.] Only thinking and thinking and thinking.

RITA. [Putting her arm round his neck.] And thinking a little, too,
of those you had left at home?

ALLMERS. Yes, you may be sure of that. I have thought a great deal
of you--every single day.

RITA. [Taking her arm away.] Ah, that is all I care about.

ASTA. But you haven't even touched the book! And yet you can look
so happy and contented! That is not what you generally do--I mean
when your work is going badly.