VOICES. Oh! Oh! Look! There she is! Oh! Oh! SIGNORA FROLA (_noticing the change in people, and groaning, all of a tremble_). What's the matter? What's the matter? (_The company divides to either hand. A lady has appeared at the door in back. She is dressed in deep mourning and her face is concealed with a thick, black, impenetrable veil_). SIGNORA FROLA (_uttering a piercing shriek of joy_). Oh, Lena! Lena! Lena! Lena! (_She dashes forward and throws her arms about the veiled woman with the passionate hysteria of a mother who has not embraced her daughter for years and years. But at the same time from beyond the door in the rear another piercing cry comes. Ponza dashes into the room_). PONZA. No! Julia! Julia! Julia! (_At his voice Signora Ponza draws up stiffly in the arms of Signora Frola who is clasping her tightly. Ponza notices that his mother-in-law is thus desperately entwined about his wife and he shrieks desperately_). PONZA. Cowards! Liars! I knew you would! I knew you would! It is just like the lot of you! SIGNORA PONZA (_turning her veiled head with a certain austere solemnity toward her husband_). Never mind! Don't be afraid! Just take her away, just take her away! Please go away, now, both of you! Please go away! (_Signora Frola, at these words, turns to her son-in-law and humbly, tremblingly, goes over and embraces him_). SIGNORA FROLA. Yes, yes, you poor boy, come with me, come with me! (_Their arms about each other's waists, and holding each other up affectionately, Ponza and his mother-in-law withdraw through the rear door. They are both weeping. Profound silence in the company. All those present stand there with their eyes fixed upon the departing couple. As Signora Frola and Ponza are lost from view, all eyes turn expectantly upon the veiled lady. Some of the women are weeping_). SIGNORA PONZA. And what can you want of me now, after all this, ladies and gentlemen? In our lives, as you see, there is something which must remain concealed. Otherwise the remedy which our love for each other has found cannot avail. PREFECT (_with tears in his eyes_). We surely are anxious to respect your sorrow, madam, but we must know, and we want you to tell.... SIGNORA PONZA. What? The truth? The truth is simply this. I am the daughter of Signora Frola, and I am the second wife of Signor Ponza. Yes, and--for myself, I am nobody, I am nobody.... PREFECT. Ah, but no, madam, for yourself ... you must be ... either the one or the other.