DR. GOLL. LULU. (Inside.) Just a second! LULU. DR. GOLL. (To Schön.) I can't get onto these blockheads. (Referring to Schwarz.) DR. GOLL. SCHÖN. I can't help envying them. These blockheads know nothing holier than an altar-cloth, and feel richer than you and me with 30,000-mark incomes. Besides, you can't be judge of a man who from childhood has lived from palette to mouth. Try to get at his finances: it's an arithmetic example! I haven't the moral courage, and one can easily burn one's fingers at it, too. SCHÖN. LULU. (As Pierrot, steps out of the bed-room.) Here I am! LULU. SCHÖN. (Turns; after a pause.) Superb! SCHÖN. LULU. (Nearer.) Well? LULU. SCHÖN. You put shame on the boldest fancy. SCHÖN. LULU. How do you like me? LULU. SCHÖN. A picture before which art must despair. SCHÖN. DR. GOLL. Don't you think so, too?
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