"Open, in there! This is a police order! Open this door, do you hear ?"
Their meaning could not impress, their threat could not affright. For she was somebody else's prisoner now. She had escaped them.
Moaning anguished into a heedless ear: "Oh, Louis, Louis! I have loved you too late. Too late I have loved you."
The knocking and the clamor and the grief faded out, and there was nothing left.
"And this is my punishment."
The soundless music stops. The dancing figures wilt and drop.
The Waltz is done.
THE END