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They have the secret; but I never heard of its being used in war, except in the last war, against us. [_He sits up and reaches for the knife, which_ RHEINHARDT _gives_.] Do you see anything that looks like poison?
RHEINHARDT.
Come, come! [_Presses him down in the chair._] If I let you come outside the veranda, you must be content to lie still.--Selim, two pegs lower.
[_Holds up two fingers._] And the cus.h.i.+ons. [_To_ ADENE, _as_ SELIM _nods his understanding_.] I never know how much that man understands.
[SELIM _lowers the back of the chair, and rearranges the cus.h.i.+ons tenderly and skilfully. A bell is heard, off._
ADENE.
Oh, he understands most things. [_Exit_ SELIM _up_ C.] You see, Carlyon's methods at that time had turned them into perfect fiends!
[RHEINHARDT _looks sharply up_.] Well, infected them, we'll say, with the Carlyon spirit. [RHEINHARDT _continues to look disapprovingly at_ ADENE.] Look here, Rheinhardt, do you think this is a delusion of mine about Carlyon?
RHEINHARDT.
No.
ADENE.
Then why do you look hurt whenever I refer to the things that I know about him?
RHEINHARDT.
Sir Carlyon may be the Devil himself; I have in him no interest. It is only the children of the Devil that I am sorry for.
ADENE.
[_With sudden constraint._] I have never said a word affecting Miss Carlyon.
RHEINHARDT.
Nor thought a word, eh?
ADENE.
I have no material for thinking about her, one way or the other.
_Re-enter_ SELIM _with letters_.
RHEINHARDT.
I will give you material!
SELIM.
[_Interrupting and laying letters on table in front of_ RHEINHARDT.]
Post!
RHEINHARDT.
[_Taking the letters, while_ ADENE _sits up and looks at them_.] No, you do not open your letters yet!
ADENE.
Goodness knows I don't want to; unless there is one from my sister----
RHEINHARDT.
[_Reading the addresses._] "An den Herrn Professor Rheinhardt, M.D., Ph.D." "Dr. Rheinhardt." [_Stopping and looking again._] Ach! no.
"_Miss_ Rheinhardt." It is for my a.s.sistant. [_To_ SELIM.] Here; for the Mem-sahib!
ADENE.
That is Carlyon's handwriting! [_Rises._
[SELIM, _who has just reached the door, turns suddenly and drops the letter with signs of fear_. ADENE _crosses towards him_.
SELIM.
Kal[^y]ona Sahib! [_Stands shrinking from the letter._
RHEINHARDT.
What matters it to you whose letter it is? Take it!
SELIM.
[_In terror, catching_ ADENE'S _arm_.] Ai! ai! Sahib.
[_Draws_ ADENE _into the doorway and whispers to him._
ADENE.
Yes, yes, I know; but don't be afraid. [_To_ RHEINHARDT.] It is no good; he won't touch that letter!
RHEINHARDT.
Won't touch it? Very well, he shall not touch it. [_Takes a plate from among the curiosities on the table and puts letter upon it._] There; take it on this. [_Exit_ SELIM _with plate_.] And you, come back! [ADENE _comes down again to his chair and sits thinking_. RHEINHARDT _continues_.] Gott in Himmel! so long as it does not touch his skin, so long it is all right.
[_Laughing._
ADENE.
Rheinhardt, who _is_ this a.s.sistant of yours, whom I never see?
RHEINHARDT.
Who my a.s.sistant is?--she was a pupil of mine.
