THE BALL.—_A magnificent, brilliantly illuminated room. Big
double doors at left and right. High arches in the back wall
give out into a corridor, and beyond each arch is a tall glass
door, curtained with some transparent material._
_Down right a table is laid for seven. Two tabourettes stand
between the table and the audience. Soft music can be heard off
stage. It is midnight._
_When the curtain rises CÆSAR is pouring wine into the glasses
and putting the finishing touches to the table arrangements.
Finished, he goes to the door at right and stands, immobile as
a statue._
_The glass door back left opens; SYMPHOROSA enters. For a
moment the music sounds louder, a glimpse of people dancing can
be seen; then the door is closed._
_SYMPHOROSA stops, looks back as if she is expecting someone to
follow her. After a brief pause the door is opened again and
BEATRICE enters._
BEATRICE—Did you beckon me to come out?
SYMPHOROSA—Yes.
BEATRICE—What do you want? Why do you act so mysteriously?
SYMPHOROSA—I didn’t want to whisper to you in there.
BEATRICE—Don’t be excited! What’s the matter? Tell me calmly.
SYMPHOROSA—Beatrice, I think that Alexandra has been sitting in that
corner with the professor altogether too long.
BEATRICE—For the first time in my life, Symphorosa, I think you are right.
SYMPHOROSA—It seems to me she is going just a bit further than is
strictly necessary.
BEATRICE—Apparently I have made a mistake in the size of the dose. But
don’t worry, my dear.
SYMPHOROSA—She should be told that she has done enough for the present.
Let her keep away from the professor a while.
BEATRICE—Very well, Symphorosa, go and tell her to keep away from the
professor. Only how will you tell her?