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The Devil

Chapter 9: CURTAIN.
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About This Book

A sharp three-act comedy-drama follows an artist whose ease with a longtime model is disrupted when a suave stranger, calling himself Dr. Miller, insinuates himself into their social circle and provokes flirtations, jealousies, and social maneuvering. Through encounters at the artist's studio and a glittering reception, the intruder manipulates personal ambitions and romantic entanglements among a banker, his wife, an heiress, and others, exposing vanity and moral weakness. The play balances wit and moral observation as private loyalties are tested and the morning after forces characters to confront consequences.

Olga and Karl


OLGA

[Angry and almost crying, crossing to door.

Doctor Miller.

[DEVIL enters.

My—my letter.

DEVIL

Ah, pardon me, Madame, a thousand pardons, I quite forgot. The only excuse I can offer is that there are some letters which ought never to be delivered.

[Takes letter out of his pocket

OLGA

[Takes a step towards KARL, looks at DEVIL over her shoulder, shivers slightly.

Who is that man?

[Silence, KARL looks at DEVIL, OLGA is terrified.

[DEVIL crosses, gives the letter to KARL with a smile.

[OLGA, quickly, to KARL.

Tear that letter up.

[KARL tears up letter.

Put it in the fire.

[KARL crumples up the pieces and throws them in the fire. As he does so, OLGA makes an involuntary movement with her hand as if to stop him, but he does not see it as his back is turned. The DEVIL sees it, however, and smiles

DEVIL

I sincerely regret if my forgetfulness has caused any inconvenience

KARL, at alcove, pointing to door R

[Offensively.

Pray don't let me detain you—

DEVIL

My train doesn't leave for an hour. Once more a thousand pardons.

[Crossing to C., turning to both.

If I could have foreseen what terrible distress the non-delivery of this letter——

KARL, firmly

You may be quite sure it contained nothing—er—nothing—

[At a loss for a word.

DEVIL, looking at OLGA

Nothing.

KARL, at large chair

You will miss your train.

DEVIL, to OLGA, bowing

Madame—

[To KARL, offering hand.

[KARL turns his back.

Good-bye, a thousand pardons.

[Exit DEVIL at door to hall.

OLGA

I would have given anything in the world if you had not burned that letter.

KARL

Why—you told—me—

[OLGA shrugs her shoulders as if to say, "What can one expect of a man?"

What does it matter anyway, whatever it is? I would rather hear it from your lips.

OLGA, firmly

No! The letter is burned; it is nothing but ashes—it is dead—no human power can bring it back to life.

KARL

But, Olga!

OLGA

A moment ago I would have given all I possessed to save it from the fire—and now—

KARL

What has happened?

OLGA

I can't tell you. I only know I am glad—I'm glad.

[OLGA here seems to have suddenly become composed, almost happy, as if something had been settled, though not as she had wished, still it is a relief.

KARL, takes her hand

Olga, do you mean you will never—

OLGA, smiling

I mean you will never know what was in that letter—it is as if it had never been written—it has ceased to exist, and we are past the day of miracles.

KARL, impatiently

Miracles?

OLGA

No, no! Only the devil himself would re-create that letter from its burnt ashes. Good-bye, Karl. I'm going now—I shan't see you again.

[Shakes hands naturally.

[At word "Devil" the DEVIL enters silently from hall door. He has his fur coat on. He smiles wickedly, and at OLGA'S words "re-create that letter," pulls OLGA'S letter out of his pocket, and stands so that the chair hides him from KARL and OLGA, who are close to studio door.

KARL

Olga, you are afraid of something. What is it?

OLGA

I'm afraid of—myself—good-bye!

KARL

Good-bye, Olga.

[They turn and see the devil.

[To DEVIL, angrily.

I thought you'd gone!

[Goes abruptly into the studio, OLGA stands as if hypnotized.

DEVIL, to OLGA

I beg your pardon, I am so upset to-day—

[Holding out letter.

I made a mistake—I gave you my tailor's bill instead of your letter—here is your letter!

[DEVIL gives the letter to OLGA, who snatches it from him in a frightened manner and tears it open. She recognizes her letter.

OLGA

Karl! my letter! I have my letter—

[She runs into the studio.

[The DEVIL goes to the door of the studio, smiles diabolically, listens a minute at the door and rubs his hands as if he was very pleased with himself.

DEVIL

Voilà!

CURTAIN.