Julie. [Sharply.] What?

John. A person who’s been on her legs all day by the fireplace will naturally be tired when night comes; and sleep should be respected.

Julie. [In another tone.] That’s a pretty thought. and does you credit—thank you. [She holds her hand out to JOHN.] Come out now and pick some clover for me. [During the subsequent dialogue CHRISTINE wakes up, and exit in a dosed condition to the right, to go to bed.]

John. With you, Miss?

Julie. With me?

John. It’s impossible, absolutely impossible.

Julie. I don’t understand what you mean. Can it be possible that you imagine such a thing for a single minute.

John. Me—no, but the people—yes.

Julie. What! That I should be in love with a servant?

John. I’m not by any means an educated man, but there have been cases, and nothing is sacred to the people.

Julie. I do believe the man is an aristocrat.

John. Yes, that I am.

Julie. And I’m on the down path.

John. Don’t go down, Miss. Take my advice, nobody will believe that you went down of your own free will. People will always say you fell.

Julie. I have a better opinion of people than you have. Come and try. Come. [She challenges him with her eyes.]

John. You are strange, you know.

Julie. Perhaps I am, but so are you. Besides, everything is strange. Life, men, the whole thing is simply an iceberg which is driven out on the water until it sinks—sinks. I have a dream which comes up now and again, and now it haunts me. I am sitting on the top of a high pillar and can’t see any possibility of getting down, I feel dizzy when I look down, but I have to get down all the same.