Madeleine. Impudent!
Marcel. That's why you came.
Madeleine [about to leave]. Shall I go out through the models' door, as I used to?
Marcel. If I were still a bachelor you wouldn't leave me this way! You would miss your train this evening, I'll tell you that!
Madeleine. You may very well look at that long sofa! No, no, my dear: not to-day, thanks!
Marcel. In an hour, then, at Madame de Montglat's!
Madeleine. Take care, or I'll make you meet your successor!
Marcel. Then I can see whether you are still a woman of taste.
Madeleine. Ah, men are very—I'll say the word after I leave. [She goes out through the little door.]
Marcel [alone]. "Men are very—!" If we were, the women would have a very stupid time of it!
[He is about to follow Madeleine.]
[Enter Françoise.]
Françoise. Who was that stylish looking woman who just left, Marcel?
Marcel [embarrassed]. Madame Jackson, my American friend.
Françoise. Well?
Marcel. My picture? Sold!
Françoise. Ten thousand? Splendid! Don't you think so? You don't seem very happy!
Marcel. The idea!
[He picks up his hat.]
Françoise [jealously]. Are you going to leave me?
Marcel. I am just going to Goupil's and tell him.
Françoise. Then I'll have to lunch all by myself! [Marcel stops an instant before the mirror.] You look lovely.
Marcel [turning round]. I—
Françoise. Oh, you'll succeed!
[A pause.]
Marcel [enchanted, in spite of himself]. What can you be thinking of! [Aside.] What if she were after all my happiness? [Reproachfully.] Now, Françoise—
Françoise. I was only joking.
Marcel [ready to leave]. No moping, remember? I can't have that!
Françoise. I know!
Marcel [tenderly. He stands at the threshold. Aside]. Poor child! Well I may fail!
[He goes out, left.]
Françoise [sadly]. Where is he going? Probably to a rendezvous. Oh, if he is! Will my luck fail me to-day? Soon he'll come back again, so well satisfied with himself! I talk to him so much about my resignation, I wonder whether he believes in it? Why must I be tormented this way forever?
[Enter Jean, with a visiting-card.]
Jean. Is Monsieur here?
Françoise. Let me see!
[She takes the card.]
Jean. The gentleman is waiting, Madame.
Françoise. Ask him to come in. Quick, now!
[Jean goes out.]
[Enter Guérin, at the back. As he sees Françoise he hesitates before coming to her.]
Françoise [cordially]. Come in, Monsieur. I have never seen you, but I already know you very well.
Guérin [a large, strong man, with grayish hair]. Thank you, Madame. I thought I should find Monsieur Desroches at home. If you will excuse me—
Françoise. I beg you!
Guérin. I fear I am intruding: it's so early.
Françoise. You intruding in Marcel's home?
Guérin. Madame—
Françoise. My husband will return soon, Monsieur.
Guérin [brightening]. Good!
Françoise. Will you wait for him here in the studio?
Guérin [advancing]. Really, Madame, it would be most ungrateful of me to refuse your kindness.
Françoise. Here are magazines and newspapers—I shall ask to be excused. [As she is about to leave.] It was rather difficult to make you stay!
Guérin. Forgive me, Madame. [Aside ironically.] Too bad! She's decidedly charming!
[Having gone up-stage, Françoise suddenly returns.]
Françoise. It seems a little strange to you, Monsieur—doesn't it?—to see a woman in this bachelor studio—quite at home?
Guérin. Why, Madame—
Françoise. Before leaving you—which I shall do in a moment—you must know that there is one woman who is very glad to know you have returned to Paris!
Guérin. We just arrived this week.
Françoise. Good!
Guérin [ironically]. It's so long since I've seen Marcel.
Françoise. Three years.
Guérin. So many things have happened since!
Françoise. You find him a married man, for one thing—
Guérin. Happily married!
Françoise. Yes, happily!
Guérin. Dear old Marcel! I'll be so glad to see him!
Françoise. I see you haven't forgotten my husband, Monsieur. Thank you!
Guérin. How can I help admiring so stout and loyal a heart as his!
Françoise. You'll have to like me, too!
Guérin. I already do.
Françoise. Really? Then you believe everything you write?
Guérin. Yes, Madame.
Françoise. Take care! This morning I was re-reading one of your letters, in which you promised me your heartiest support. [Offering him her hand.] Then we're friends, are we not?
Guérin [after hesitating, takes her hand]. Good friends,
