John. Yes, she is mad, to dance like that; and everybody stands by the door and grins at her. What do you say about it, Christine?

Christine. Ah, it’s just her time, and then she always takes on so strange. But won’t you come now and dance with me?

John. You aren’t offended with me that I cut your last dance?

Christine. No, not the least bit; you know that well enough, and I know my place besides.

John. [Puts his hand, round her waist.] You’re a sensible girl, Christine, and you’d make an excellent housekeeper.

Julie. [Comes in through the glass door. She is disagreeably surprised. With forced humor.] Charming cavalier you are, to be sure, to run away from your partner.

John. On the contrary, Miss Julie, I’ve been hurrying all I know, as you see, to find the girl I left behind me.

Julie. Do you know, none of the others dance like you do. But why do you go about in livery on a holiday evening? Take it off at once.

John. In that case, miss, I must ask you to leave me for a moment, because my black coat hangs up here. [He goes with a corresponding gesture toward the right.]

Julie. Is he bashful on my account? Just about changing a coat! Is he going into his room and coming back again? So far as I am concerned he can stay here; I’ll turn round.

John. By your leave, miss. [He goes to the left, his arm is visible when he changes his coat.]