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I were not at the point of death? [_The bell rings_. Musotte _utters a cry_.] Ah, there he is! it is he! Quick! quick! Oh, God, how I suffer! [_Exit_ Mme. Flache C. Musotte _gazes after her. Enter_ Dr. Pellerin, _in evening clothes_.]

      SCENE II.

      MUSOTTE [_despairingly_]

      Ah! it is not he!

      PELLERIN [_approaches_ Musotte]

      Has he not come yet?

      MUSOTTE

      He will not come.

      DR. PELLERIN

      He will! I am certain of it; I know it.

      MUSOTTE

      No!

      DR. PELLERIN

      I swear it! [_Turns toward_ Mme. Flache.] Hasn't he answered the note yet?

      MME. FLACHE

      No, Doctor.

      DR. PELLERIN

      Well, he will come. How is my patient?

      MME. FLACHE

      She has rested a little.

      MUSOTTE [_in an agitated voice_]

      All is over! I feel that I shall not rest any more until he comes, or until I depart without having seen him.

      DR. PELLERIN

      He will come if you will go to sleep immediately and sleep until to-morrow morning.

      MUSOTTE

      You would not have written to him to come this evening if I had been able to wait until to-morrow morning. [_The bell rings_.] If that is not he, I am lost--lost! [Mme. Flache _runs to open the door_. Musotte _listens intently, and hears from below a man's voice; then murmurs despairingly_.] It is not he!

      MME. FLACHE [_re-enters with a vial in her hand_]

      It is the medicine from the chemist.

      MUSOTTE [_agitated_]

      Oh, God! how horrible! He is not coming; what have I done? Doctor, show me my child. I will see him once more.

      DR. PELLERIN

      But he sleeps, my little Musotte.

      MUSOTTE

      Well, he has plenty of time in the future for sleep.

      DR. PELLERIN

      Come, come, calm yourself.

      MUSOTTE

      If Jean does not come, who will take care of my child?--for it is Jean's child, I swear to you. Do you believe me? Oh, how I loved him!

      DR. PELLERIN

      Yes, my dear little child, we believe you. But please be calm.

      MUSOTTE [_with increasing agitation_]

      Tell me, when you went away just now where did you go?

      DR. PELLERIN

      To see a patient.

      MUSOTTE

      That is not true. You went to see Jean, and he would not come with you, or he would be here now.

      DR. PELLERIN

      On my word of honor, no.

      MUSOTTE

      Yes, I feel it. You have seen him, and you do not dare to tell me for fear it would kill me.

      DR. PELLERIN

      Ah, the fever is coming back again. This must not go on. I don't wish you to be delirious when he comes. [_Turns to_ Mme. Flache.] We must give her a hypodermic injection. Give me the morphia. [Mme. Flache _brings the needle and morphia, from the mantelpiece and gives it to_ Dr. Pellerin.]

      MUSOTTE [_uncovers her own arm_]

      But for this relief, I do not know how I should have borne up during the last few days. [Dr. Pellerin _administers the hypodermic_.]

      DR. PELLERIN

      Now, you must go to sleep; I forbid you to speak. I won't answer you, and I tell you of a certainty that in a quarter of an hour Jean will be here. [Musotte _stretches herself out obediently upon the couch and goes to sleep_.]

      LA BABIN [_silently replaces the screen which hides_ Musotte]

      How she sleeps! What a benediction that drug is! But I don't want any of it. It scares me; it is a devil's potion. [_Sits near the cradle and reads a newspaper_.]

      MME. FLACHE [_in a low voice to_ Dr. Pellerin]

      Oh, the poor girl, what misery!

      DR. PELLERIN [_in the same tone_]

      Yes, she is a brave girl. It is some time since I first met her with Jean Martinel, who gave her three years of complete happiness. She has a pure and simple soul.

      MME. FLACHE

      Well, will this Monsieur Martinel come?

      DR. PELLERIN

      I think so. He is a man of feeling, but it is a difficult thing for him to leave his wife and his people on such a day as this.

      MME. FLACHE

      It certainly is a most extraordinary case. A veritable _fiasco_.

      DR. PELLERIN

      It is, indeed.

      MME. FLACHE [_changes her tone_]

      Where have you been just now? You did not put on evening dress and a white cravat to go and see a patient?

      DR. PELLERIN

      I went to see the first part of the Montargy ballet danced.

      MME. FLACHE [_interested, and leaning upon the edge of the table_]

      And was it good? Tell me.

      DR. PELLERIN [_sits_ L. _of table_]

      It was very well danced.

      MME. FLACHE

      The new directors do things in style, don't they?

      DR. PELLERIN

      Jeanne Merali and Gabrielle Poivrier are first class.

      MME. FLACHE

      Poivrier--the little Poivrier--is it possible! As to Merali I am not so much astonished; although she is distinctly ugly, she has her good points. And how about Mauri?

      DR. PELLERIN

      Oh, a marvel--an absolute marvel, who dances as no one else can. A human bird with limbs for wings. It was absolute perfection.

      MME. FLACHE

      Are you in love with her?

      DR. PELLERIN

      Oh, no; merely an admirer. You know how I worship the dance.

      MME. FLACHE

      And the _danseuses_ also, at times. [_Lowering her eyes._] Come, have you forgotten?

      DR. PELLERIN

      One can never forget artists of your worth, my dear.

      MME. FLACHE

      You are simply teasing me.

      DR. PELLERIN

      I only do you justice. You know that formerly, when I was a young doctor, I had for you a very ardent passion which lasted six weeks. Tell me, don't you

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