LITMIR.BIZ

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a very clever woman, who was never jealous! Or else he comes in so late that I must be glad, for if he came in later, it would have been all night! He tells me he had some splendid opportunity, and had to give it up! A thousand things like that! He seems to delight in making me suspect and doubt him!

      Guérin. Poor little woman!

      Françoise. That's my life; as for my happiness, it exists from day to day. [With determination.] If I only had the right to be unhappy! But I must always smile, I must be happy, not only in his presence, but to the very depths of my soul! So that he may deceive me without the least remorse! It is his pleasure!

      [She bursts into tears.]

      Guérin [rising]. The selfish brute!

      Françoise. Isn't my suffering a reproach to him?

      Guérin. I pity you, Madame, and I think I understand you better than any one else. I have trouble not unlike your own; perhaps greater, troubles for which there is no consolation.

      Françoise. If you understand me, Monsieur, advise me! I need you!

      Guérin [startled back into reality]. Me, help you? I? [Aside.] No!

      Françoise. You spoke of your friendship. The time has come, prove that it is genuine!

      Guérin. Madame, why did I ever see you? Why did I listen to you?

      Françoise. What have you to regret?

      Guérin. Nothing, Madame, nothing.

      Françoise. Explain yourself, Monsieur. You—you make me afraid!

      Guérin [trying to calm her suspicions]. Don't cry like that! There is no reason why you should behave that way! Your husband doesn't love you as he ought, but he does love you. You are jealous, that's what's troubling you. But for that matter, why should he deceive you? That would be too unjust.

      Françoise [excited]. Too unjust! You are right, Monsieur! No matter how cynical, how blasé a man may be, isn't it his duty, his sacred duty, to say to himself, "I have found a good and true woman in this world of deceptions; she is a woman who adores me, who is only too ready to invent any excuse for me! She bears my name and honors it; no matter what I do, she is always true, of that I am positive. I am always foremost in her thoughts, and I shall be her only love." When a man can say all that, Monsieur, isn't that real, true happiness?

      Guérin [sobbing]. Yes—that is happiness!

      Françoise. You are crying! [A pause.]

      Guérin. My wife—deceived me!

      Françoise. Oh! [A pause.] Marcel—

      Guérin. Your happiness is in no danger! Yesterday I found some old letters, in a desk—old letters—that was all! You weren't his wife at the time. It's ancient history.

      Françoise [aside]. Who knows?

      Guérin. Forgive me, Madame; your troubles remind me of my own. When you told of the happiness you still have to give, I couldn't help thinking of what I had lost!

      Françoise. So you have come to fight a duel with my husband?

      Guérin. Madame—

      Françoise. You are going to fight him? Answer me.

      Guérin. My life is a wreck now—I must—

      Françoise. I don't ask you to forget; Monsieur—

      Guérin. Don't you think I have a right?

      Françoise. Stop!

      Guérin. I shall not try to kill him. You love him too much! I couldn't do it now. In striking him I should be injuring you, and you don't deserve to suffer; you have betrayed no one. The happiness you have just taught me to know is as sacred and inviolable as my honor, my unhappiness. I shall not seek revenge.

      Françoise [gratefully]. Oh, Monsieur.

      Guérin. I am willing he should live, because he is so dear, so necessary to you. Keep him. If he wants to spoil your happiness, his be the blame! I shall not do it. It would be sacrilege. Good-by, Madame, good-by.

      [Guérin goes out, back, Françoise falls into a chair, sobbing.]

      [Enter Marcel by the little door.]

      Marcel [aside, with a melancholy air]. Refused to see me!

      Françoise [distinctly]. Oh, it's you!

      Marcel [good-humoredly]. Yes, it's I. [A pause. He goes toward her.] You have been crying! Have you seen Guérin? He's been here!

      Françoise. Marcel!

      Marcel. Did he dare tell you!

      Françoise. You won't see any more of him.

      Marcel [astounded]. He's not going to fight?

      Françoise. He refuses.

      Marcel. Thank you!

      Françoise. I took good care of your dignity, you may be sure of that. Here we were together; I told him the story of my life during the last year—how I loved you—and then he broke down. When I learned the truth, he said he would go away for my happiness' sake.

      Marcel. I was a coward to deceive that man! Is this a final sentence that you pass on me?

      Françoise. Marcel!

      Marcel. Both of you are big! You have big hearts. I admire you both more than I can say.

      Françoise [incredulously]. Where are you going? To get him to fight with you?

      Marcel [returning to her; angrily]. How can I, now? After what you have done, it would be absurd. Why the devil did you have to mix yourself up in something that doesn't concern you? I was only looking for a chance to fight that duel!

      Françoise. Looking for a chance?

      Marcel. Oh, I—

      Françoise. Why?

      Marcel [between his teeth]. That's my affair! Everybody has his enemies—his insults to avenge. It was a very good thing that gentleman didn't happen across my path!

      Françoise. How dare you recall what he has been generous enough to forget?

      Marcel. How do you know that I haven't a special reason for fighting this duel? A legitimate reason, that must be concealed from you?

      Françoise. You are mistaken, dear: I guess that reason perfectly.

      Marcel. Really?

      Françoise. I know it.

      Marcel [bursting forth]. Oh! Good! You haven't always been so frightfully profound.

      Françoise. Yes, I have, and your irony only proves that I have not been so much mistaken in what I felt by intuition.

      Marcel. Ah, marriage.

      Françoise. Ah, duty!

      Marcel. I love Madame Guérin, don't I?

      Françoise. I don't say that.

      Marcel. You think it.

      Françoise. And if I do? Would it be a crime to think it? You once loved her—perhaps you have seen her again, recently? Do I know where you go? You never tell me.

      Marcel. I tell you too much!

      Françoise. I think you do.

      Marcel. You're jealous!

      Françoise. Common, if you like. Come, you must admit, Marcel, Madame Guérin is in some way responsible for your excitement now?

      Marcel. Very well then, I love her, I adore her! Are you satisfied?

      Françoise. You should

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