hen pointing to another door] There are seven German gentlemen
asleep in there!

LAMOND. Oh God!

SEELCHEN. Please? They are here to see the sunrise. [She picks up
a little book that has dropped from LAMOND'S pocket] I have read
several books.

LAMOND. This is by the great English poet. Do you never make poetry
here, and dream dreams, among your mountains?

SEELCHEN. [Slowly shaking her head] See! It is the full moon.

While they stand at the window looking at the moon, there enters
a lean, well-built, taciturn young man dressed in Loden.

SEELCHEN. Hans!

FELSMAN. [In a deep voice] The gentleman wishes me?

SEELCHEN. [Awed] The Great Horn for to-morrow! [Whispering to him]
It is the celebrated London one.

FELSMAN. The Great Horn is not possible.

LAMOND. You say that? And you're the famous Felsman?

FELSMAN. [Grimly] We start at dawn.

SEELCHEN. It is the first time for years!

LAMOND. [Placing his plaid and rucksack on the window bench] Can I
sleep here?

SEELCHEN. I will see; perhaps--

[She runs out up some stairs]

FELSMAN. [Taking blankets from the cupboard and spreading them on
the window seat] So!

As he goes out into the air. SEELCHEN comes slipping in again
with a lighted candle.

SEELCHEN. There is still one bed. This is too hard for you.

LAMOND. Oh! thanks; but that's all right.

SEELCHEN. To please me!

LAMOND. May I ask your name?

SEELCHEN. Seelchen.

LAMOND. Little soul, that means--doesn't it? To please you I would
sleep with seven German gentlemen.

SEELCHEN. Oh! no; it is not necessary.
CHEN. Yes. yes! I want him. H
LAMOND. [With a grave bow] At your service, then.
[He prepares to go]

SEELCHEN. Is it very nice in towns, in the World, where you come
from?

LAMOND. When I'm there I would be here; but when I'm here I would be
there.

SEELCHEN. [Clasping her hands] That is like me but I am always
here.

LAMOND. Ah! yes; there is no one like you in towns.

SEELCHEN. In two places one cannot be. [Suddenly] In the towns
there are theatres, and there is beautiful fine work, and--dancing,
and--churches--and trains--and all the things in books--and--

LAMOND. Misery.

SEELCHEN. But there is life.

LAMOND. And there is death.

SEELCHEN. To-morrow, when you have climbed--will you not come back?

LAMOND. No.

SEELCHEN. You have all the world; and I have nothing.

LAMOND. Except Fel