said not long ago at our house that Mr. Dušek is failing.
Helen.—Well, that’s once that the physician in Nedoma didn’t speak! Maybe he was speaking of his pictures. (Surprised.) And what of it? Can I command him to paint more or better? Can he paint at all when he goes about all day, seeking opportunities to meet me, when he makes friends with those fops who he imagines are favorites in my aunt’s house? With that Fořt and that Novák? (Dryly.) But he has changed, hasn’t he?
Clara.—All on account of you, Helen dear—and for that reason you ought to be honest with him.
Helen (Laughs bitterly).—Marry, Clara, dear, marry! You should marry while you still have faith in men!
Clara.—Has some one deceived you?
Helen (Haughtily).—Some one—me? Because I’m not seeking a husband? (Shaking her head.) Child, child!
Clara.—Believe me, dear Helen, I don’t understand you.
Helen.—Because I don’t care to marry? Well, you know, sweetheart mine, I know men a little. Do you think than man, Dušek, is any better? Until recently, he went about with a milliner.
(Clara surprised.)
Helen.—Yes, a milliner! For six years he had relations with an ordinary milliner. Vlasák knows it, ask him! He lived with her and adapted himself to that queer sort of society while he had a girl from that sphere. Now he is crazy about me—and makes friends with any fool of our set. (Merrily.) Now that’s charming, isn’t it? Do you think that what happened before insults me? Why? On the contrary—that mannerly big-eyed artist stimulates me! He has entertained me during the entire winter with his courtship. (Convincingly.) Oh, my girlie, he has fine feeling! With his whole being he hangs on every movement of my lips! I barely speak and, like one intoxicated, he loses himself in my moods. (A pause.) Such marvelous power wouldn’t please you, would it?
Clara (Astonished).—After all that you know about him?
Helen.—Do you know anything better about the men of our own set? And if you don’t know—can you take oath that they are different? And, for that matter, would you want a husband who had not sowed his wild oats?
Clara.—You want to tease me, don’t you, Helen, love?
Helen.—Tease you? Don’t demand much in matrimony
