Evening. A sitting room in the Schwindgasse, elegantly but anonymously furnished. The YOUNG MASTER has just come in and, with his hat and coat still on, lights the candles. Then he opens the door into the next room and looks in. The candles shine across the parquet floor to strike the four-poster bed against the back wall. The glow from the fireplace reddens the bed curtains. He inspects the bedroom. He gets perfume from the chest of drawers and sprays the pillows. Then he sprays it through both rooms, and the whole place smells of violets. He takes his hat and coat off. He sits down in a blue velvet armchair and lights a cigarette. After a pause, he gets up and checks that the green shutters are closed. Suddenly he goes back into the bedroom and opens the drawer of the dressing-table. He feels inside and finds a tortoiseshell comb. He looks for somewhere to hide it, and finally puts it in his coat pocket. Then he opens a cupboard in the sitting room, takes out a silver tray with a bottle of cognac and two liqueur glasses and puts them on the table. He goes back to his coat and takes out a small white box. He opens it and puts it beside the cognac, then goes back to the cupboard and gets two small plates and some cutlery. He picks a marron glacé from the box and eats it. He pours himself a glass of cognac and drinks it down in a gulp. Then he looks at his watch. He paces up and down. He stands for a while in front of the big wall mirror and combs his hair and moustache with his pocket-comb. He then goes to the door to the hallway and listens. Nothing. He closes the blue curtain in front of the bedroom door. The doorbell rings, and he is startled. Then he sits down in the armchair and only gets up when the door opens and the YOUNG WIFE enters, closing the door behind her. She is heavily veiled and stands there for a moment with her right hand to her breast, as if to control her emotions.

YOUNG MASTER (approaches her, takes her left hand and kisses her white glove with its black stitching. In a hushed voice). Thank you.

YOUNG WIFE. Alfred. Oh, Alfred.

YOUNG MASTER. Do come in. Please, Emma, come in. YOUNG WIFE. May I just . . . just for a moment . . . Please. Oh, please Alfred.

She stays standing at the door. He stands in front of her, holding her hand.

Where am I? In fact?

YOUNG MASTER. At my place.

YOUNG WIFE. But this house is awful, Alfred.

YOUNG MASTER. What do you mean? It’s very respectable.

YOUNG WIFE. I met two men on the stairs.

YOUNG MASTER. People you know?

YOUNG WIFE. Maybe. I couldn’t tell.

YOUNG MASTER. Forgive me, but surely you’d know if you knew them.