back wall over the fire-place, Lulu's picture as Pierrot in a
magnificent frame. Right, a tall mirror; a couch in front of it. Left,
an ebony writing-table. Centre, a few chairs around a little Chinese
table._

_Lulu stands motionless before the mirror, in a green silk
morning-dress. She frowns, passes a hand over her forehead, feels her
cheeks, and draws back from the mirror with a discouraged, almost
angry, look. Frequently turning round, she goes left, opens a casket on
the writing-table, lights herself a cigarette, looks for a book among
those that are lying on the table, takes one, and lies down on the
couch opposite the mirror. After reading a moment, she lets the book
sink, and nods seriously to herself in the glass; then resumes reading.
Schwarz enters, left, palette and brushes in hand, and bends over Lulu,
kisses her on the forehead, and goes up the steps, right._

SCHWARZ. (Turning in the door-way.) Eve!

LULU. (Smiling.) At your orders?

SCHWARZ. Seems to me you look extra charming to-day.

LULU. (With a glance at the mirror.) Depends on what you expect.

SCHWARZ. Your hair breathes out a morning freshness....

LULU. I've just come out of the water.

SCHWARZ. (Approaching her.) I've an awful lot to do to-day.

LULU. That's what you say to yourself.

SCHWARZ. (Lays his palette and brushes down on the carpet, and sits on
the edge of the couch.) What are you reading?

LULU. (Reads.) "Suddenly she heard an anchor of refuge come nodding up
the stairs."

SCHWARZ. Who under the sun writes so absorbingly?

LULU. (Reading.) "It was the postman with a money-order." (Henriette,
the servant, comes in, upper left, with a hat-box on her arm and a
little tray of letters which she puts on the table.)

HENRIETTE. The mail. I'm going to take your hat to the milliner, madam.
Anything else?

LULU. No. (Schwarz signs to her to go out, which she does, slyly
smiling.)

SCHWARZ. What was it you dreamt all last night?

LULU. You've asked me that twice already, to-day.

SCHWARZ. (Rises, takes up the letters.) I tremble for news. Every day I
fear the world may go to pieces. (Giving Lulu a letter.) For you.

LULU. (Sniffs at the paper.) Madame Corticelli. (Hides it in her
bosom.)

SCHWARZ. (Skimming a letter.) My Samaqueca-dancer sold--for fifty
thousand marks!

LULU. Who says that?

SCHWARZ. Sedelmeier in Paris. That's the third picture since our
marriage. I hardly know how to save myself from my luck!