three, and on they bring it, drinkables, eatables, table and chairs.

Only Gelsomino sits aside. The Man of the World goes to him to ask what
book so absorbs him, friendly, faux bonhomme. Gelsomino responds at once.
Books are important. And, as he lifts his up, the rose drops out. The Man
of the World picks it up and--"May he keep such a trifle?" "By all means"
nods Gelsomino, wondering. And Columbine, there with the dish in her hands,
sees it, and--there's very nearly no macaroni for lunch.

But some one else sees it, too--sees it and sees all. This is Harlequin,
who has sprung somehow from behind the trees.

There's Harlequin ... with his wand and his mask. He's watching. Now you
watch.

UNCLE EDWARD. What are you laughing at? The many times you've seen this!

ALICE. I never can help it. This is where Clown tries to steal the
breakfast, and he never remembers that Harlequin's close behind.

[And, indeed, while the others most ostentatiously don't see, Clown and
Pantaloon do steal bread and sausages and beer--and into the basket
they all go. Not the beer; that goes down the neck of Clown. Then
Columbine calls them to breakfast. Harlequin is presented to the
company. Gelsomino has greeted him even more coldly.

He is weary of her relations.

[But, behold, they discover there is no breakfast. Clown discovers it,
and is more amazed and innocent than any. Columbine is in desp