[Knocking is heard at the door. She involuntarily moves toward him
for protection. He enfolds her in his arms just an instant. More
knocking and louder. Lassalle tenderly puts her away from him and
goes to the door, opens it. The landlord stands there with the
porter behind him.]
LANDLORD. [_Entering_] You will pardon me, Herr Lassalle--but the mother
and sister of the Fraulein are in the parlor below. They had spies
follow her--it is all a misunderstanding, I know. But the young lady
should--you will pardon me, both--should not be here with you. She will
have to go. I declared to her mother that she was not here; the porter
told her otherwise. The police are at the entrance, and you understand I
can not afford to have a scene. Will the Fraulein be so good as to go
below and meet her mother?
HELENE. My mother! I have no mother.
LANDLORD. You will excuse me if I insist.
[Lassalle starts toward the landlord as if he would throttle him.
Then bethinks himself and smiles.]
LASSALLE. Certainly, kind sir, she will go, and I will go with her. We
will excuse you now!
[Puts hands on shoulder and half-pushes landlord out of the door.
Closes door.]
HELENE. [_In terror_] What shall I do?
LASSALLE. Do? Why, there is only one thing to do--meet your mother and
sister. I will go, too. [_Adjusts his collar and puts on his vest and
coat_] There, I am ready--we go!
HELENE. You do not know them. It is death.
LASSALLE. Nonsense! Have I not addressed a mob and won? Do you trust me?
[Kisses her on the forehead, and putting his arm around her, leads
her to the door.]
HELENE. [_In agony, striving to be calm_] I--I trust you. To whom can I
turn!
[_Exeunt._]
* * * * *