Beata. Not that I know of. Leonie (_drawing a paper from her pocket_). Ah--I brought mine with me. Perhaps it might interest you. Beata. Not in the least, my dear. Leonie. You are mentioned in it, too. Beata (_smiling_). Really? Leonie. Only between the lines, of course. Beata. Between the lines? What do you mean? Leonie. This is the paragraph; the one marked with a blue pencil. Don't be horrified. It will make you laugh, of course. I laughed over it myself. (Beata _takes the paper, looking firmly at_ Leonie _as she does so. She reads the paper, throws it aside, and looks at_ Leonie _again, without speaking_.) Good heavens, how pale you are! I didn't realise-- Shall I get you a glass of water? Beata. No, thanks. (_Controlling herself with an effort_.) Does Richard know of this? Leonie. Oh, yes. Doesn't Michael? Beata. Certainly not.--He would have-- Will you let me have this paper? Leonie. To show Michael? Beata. Naturally. In a matter involving his honour---- Leonie. You don't mean to make a scandal? Beata. What do you call a scandal? Haven't you made one in bringing me this? Leonie. I mean that your husband might---- Beata. My husband will do as he sees fit. Leonie. You are very sure of yourself. Beata. My dear Leonie, remember that you are in my house. Leonie. My dear Beata, we are always in each other's houses; we can't meet at the street corners, like servants. Beata. You are right. Say what you were going to say. Leonie. Oh, I have held my tongue so long! Beata. Why have you, if you had anything to say? Leonie.