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._]

* * * * *

ACT FOUR

_Scene:_ The Hotel-Parlor.

[Hilda, sister of Helene, hanging dejectedly out of window. Frau
Von Donniges standing statue-like in the center of room. Two hotel
porters making pretense of dusting furniture.]

_Enter LASSALLE with HELENE on his arm._

LASSALLE. [_To Helene_] Courage, my dear, courage!

[Bows to Frau Von Donniges, who is unconscious of his presence.
Lassalle and Helene hesitate and look at each other nervously.
Helene clutches Lassalle's arm to keep from falling--they both move
slowly around the statuesque Frau. The Frau suddenly perceives
them, turns and glares.]

FRAU VON DONNIGES. Away with that man--I will not allow him to remain in
this room!

LASSALLE. [_Bowing, with hand on heart_] Surely, Madame, you do not know
me. Will you not allow me to speak--to explain!

FRAU VON DONNIGES. Away, I say--out of my sight! Begone, you craven
coward--you thief!

[These are new epithets to Lassalle. He is used to being called a
Jew, a fanatic, a dangerous demagogue--something
half-complimentary. But there is no alloy in "coward," "thief." He
looks at Helene as if to receive reassurance that he hears aright.]

HELENE. Come--you see it is as I told you--reason in her is dead. Let us
go.

LASSALLE. [_Loosening Helene's hold upon his arm and stepping toward the
Frau_] Madame, you have availed yourself of a woman's privilege, and
used language toward me which men never use toward each other unless
they court death. I say no more to you, preferring now to speak to your
husband.

FRAU VON DONNIGES. Yes, you speak to my husband--and he will give you
what you deserve.

LASSALLE. [_Changing his tactics_] Your husband is a gentleman, I trust.
And you--are the mother of the lady I love, so I will resent nothing you
say. You speak only in a passion, and not from your heart. I resent
nothing.

FRAU VON DONNIGES. A man spotted with every vice says he loves my
daughter! Your love is pollution. My ears are closed to you--you may
stand and grimace and insult me, but I hear you not. Go!

LASSALLE