Gerardo, valet, later the elevator Boy.

Gerardo. What, aren't you through with packing yet?—How long does it take you to pack?

Valet. I'll be through in a minute, Sir.

Gerardo. Be quick about it. I have some work left to do before I go. Come, let me have a look at things. (He reaches into one of the trunks.) Great Heavens, man! Don't you know how to fold a pair of trousers? (Takes out the garment in question.) Do you call that packing? Well I do believe, I might teach you a thing or two, though, surely, you ought to be better at this than I! Look here, that's the way to take hold of a pair of trousers. Then hook them here. Next, turn to these two buttons. Watch closely now, it all depends on these two buttons; and then—pull—the trousers straight. There you are! Now finish up by folding them once—like this. That's the way. They won't lose their shape now in a hundred years!

Valet (quite reverent, with eyes cast down). Perhaps Mr. Gerardo used to be a tailor once.

Gerardo. What? A tailor, I? Not quite. Simpleton! (Handing the trousers to him.) There, put them back, but be quick about it.

Valet (bending down over the trunk). There's another batch of letters for you, Sir.

Gerardo (walking over to the left). Yes, I've seen them.

Valet. And flowers!

Gerardo. Yes, yes. (Takes the letters from the tray and throws himself into an armchair in front of the piano.) Now, for pity's sake, hurry up and get through. Valet disappears in adjoining room. Gerardo opens the letters, glances through them with a radiant smile, crumples them up and throws them under his chair. From one of them he reads as follows:) "... To belong to you who to me are a god! To make me infinitely happy for the rest of my life, how little that would cost you! Consider, please, ..." (To himself.) Great Heavens! Here I am to sing Tristan in Brussels tomorrow night and don't remember a single note!—Not a single note! (Looking at his watch.) Half-past three.—Forty-five minutes left. (A knock.) Come i—n!

Boy (lugging in a basket of champagne). I was told to put this in Mr....

Gerardo. Who told you?—Who is downstairs?

Boy. I was told to put this in Mr. Gerardo's room.

Gerardo (rising). What is it? (Relieves him of the basket.) Thank you. (Exit elevator boy. Gerardo lugs basket forward.) For mercy's sake! Now what am I to do with this! (Reads the name on the giver's card and calls out.) George!

Valet (enters from the adjoining room with another armful of clothes). It's the last lot. Sir. (Distributes them among the various trunks which he then closes.)

Gerardo. Very well.—I am at home to no one!

Valet. I know. Sir.

Gerardo. To no one, I say!

Valet. You may depend on me, Sir. (Handing him the trunk keys.) Here are the keys, Mr. Gerardo.

Gerardo (putting the keys in his pocket). To no one!

Valet. The trunks will be taken down at once. (Starts to leave the room.)

Gerardo. Wait a moment ...

Valet (returning). Yes, Sir?

Gerardo (gives him a tip). What I said was: to no one!

Valet. Thank you very much indeed. Sir. [Exit.]