is table. Lower
right, a smaller table with a chair. Lower left, a high, very wide,
old-fashioned arm-chair. Above it, a tall mirror, with a make-up stand
before it holding puff, rouge, etc., etc._

_Alva is at lower right, filling two glasses with red wine and
champagne._

ALVA. Never since I began to work for the stage have I seen a public so
uncontrolled in enthusiasm.

LULU. (Voice from behind the screen.) Don't give me too much red wine.
Will he see me to-day?

ALVA. Father?

LULU. Yes.

ALVA. I don't know if he's in the theater.

LULU. Doesn't he want to see me at all?

ALVA. He has so little time.

LULU. His =bride= occupies him.

ALVA. Speculations. He gives himself no rest. (Schoen enters.) You?
We're just speaking of you.

LULU. Is he there?

SCHOEN. You're changing?

LULU. (Peeping over the Spanish screen, to Schoen.) You write in all the
papers that I'm the most gifted danseuse who ever trod the stage, a
second Taglioni and I don't know what else--and you haven't once found
me gifted enough to convince yourself of the fact.

SCHOEN. I have so much to write. You see, I was right: there were
hardly any seats left. You must keep rather more in the proscenium.

LULU. I must first accustom myself to the light.

ALVA. She has kept herself strictly to her part.

SCHOEN. (To Alva.) You must get more out of your performers! You don't
know enough yet about the technique. (To Lulu.) What do you come as
now?

LULU. As a flower-girl.

SCHOEN. (To Alva.) In tights?

ALVA. No. In a skirt to the ankles.

SCHOEN. It would have been better if you hadn't ventured on symbolism.

ALVA. I look at a dancer's feet.

SCHOEN. The point is, what the public looks at. An apparition like =her=
has no need, thank heaven, of your symbolic mummery.

ALVA. The public doesn't look as if it was bored!

SCHOEN. Of course not; because I have been working for her success in
the press for six months. Has the prince been here?

ALVA. Nobody's been here.

SCHOEN. Who lets a dancer come on thru two acts in raincoats?

ALVA. Who is the prince?

SCHOEN. Shall we see each other afterwards?

ALVA. Are you alone?

SCHOEN. With acquaintances. At Peter's?

ALVA. At twelve?

SCHOEN. At twelve. (Exit.)

LULU. I'd given up hoping he'd ever come.

ALVA. Don't let yourself be misled by his grumpy growls. If you'll only
be careful not to spend your strength before the last number
begins-- (Lulu steps out in a clas