arrested as a fraudulent legatee and remove her from Kunze's guardianship.
"What a cad," said Diederich. "After all, she is his sister." The author explained to him:
"That is true, but, on the other hand, he is right in wanting to entail the estates. He is working for the good of the whole family, even though the individual should suffer. Of course, that is tragic for the secret countess."
"When you look at it properly —" Diederich was delighted. This aristocratic standpoint suited him perfectly, when he felt disinclined to give Magda a share in the business on her marriage.
"Countess, your play is excellent," he said, with deep conviction. But just then Frau von Wulckow anxiously seized his arm. There was a noise amongst the audience; chairs were scraped and people were sniggering and blowing their noses. "He is overdoing it," stormed the authoress. "I always told him so."
Jadassohn was really acting outrageously. He had cornered the niece, together with the comic lady, behind a table, and filled the whole stage with noisy demonstrations of his aristocratic personality. The more hostile the audience became, the more aggressively did he realise his part on the stage. Now they were actually hissing. Several people had even turned towards the door behind which Frau von Wulckow was trembling, and were hissing. Perhaps it was only because the door was squeaking—but the authoress drew back, lost her glasses, and in helpless horror clawed the air, until Diederich restored them to her. He tried to console her. "This doesn't matter. Jadassohn goes off very soon, doesn't he?" He was listening through the closed door. "Yes, thank Heaven!" she cried, while her teeth chattered. "Now he has finished. Now my niece flees with the comic old lady and then Kunze returns, you know, with the lieutenant."
"Is there a lieutenant in the play also?" asked Diederich,
