fine!

[_He tries to embrace her._]

Come! Forever! With this kiss--

CLARA (_sinks into his arms_).

No, not forever! Only to keep me from falling--but no kiss!

SECRETARY.

Girl, you do not love him, you have your release--

CLARA (_gloomily, straightening herself up again_).

And yet I must go to him, I must throw myself on my knees before him and
cry out: "Behold my father's white hairs! Take me!"

SECRETARY.

Unhappy girl! Do I understand you?

CLARA.

Yes!

SECRETARY.

No man can overlook that! Think of having to cast down one's eyes before
a man into whose face one would like to spit!

[_He presses CLARA wildly to him._]

Poor, poor girl!

CLARA.

Go now, go!

SECRETARY (_to himself, brooding_).

Or else one would have to shoot the dog who knows of it. Oh, that he had
some courage about him! That he would stand up and fight! That one could
force him to it! I should not be afraid of missing him!

CLARA.

I beg of you!

SECRETARY (_going_).

As soon as it grows dark!

[_He returns and grasps CLARA's hand._]

Girl, you stand before me--[_He turns away._]

Thousands of your sex would have kept it a secret with shrewd cunning,
and only in an hour of sweet forgetfulness would have confided it
coaxingly to the ear and soul of their husbands. I feel what I owe you!

CLARA (_alone_).

Oh, my heart, lock yourself up! Crush yourself together so that not
another drop of that blood may escape which would kindle again the
congealing life in my veins! For a moment a feeling akin to hope arose
in you again! Now for the first time I am conscious of it!

[_Laughs._]

No! No man can, overlook that! And if--could you yourself overlook it?
Would you have had the courage to grasp a hand that--No! no! Such evil
courage you would not have! You would with your own hands have to lock
yourself into your hell, if any one tried to open the door from the
outside. You are forever--Oh, alas, that the pain is intermittent, that
the piercing agony sometimes ceases! That is the reason why it lasts so
long! The tortured man imagines he is resting when the torturer merely
pauses to get his breath. It is like a drowning man's catching his
breath on the waves, when the current that has drawn him under spews him
forth again only to seize him once more and draw him down. He has
nothing but a double, futile fight for life!--

Well, Clara?--Yes, father, I am going! Your daughter will not drive you
to self-de