Sure. I only regret that you have had to take the trouble to go and look in your garden for the key that you threw there.
Lionnette.
The fact is that you have discovered the only way to compel me,—an infamous way, Sir. (While speaking she has taken off the veils that covered her face, and thrown them on the table.) You acknowledge, Sir, do you not, the infamous means you have adopted. Answer me!
Nourvady.
I have no answer. You are in your own house; I could if I wished withdraw myself from your insult and anger: but, apart from the fact that my courage to do so forsook me from the moment you came here, I am sure you have something else to say to me, and I remain to hear it.
Lionnette.
Truly, Sir, an explanation between you and me is necessary; and, as you did not wish to return to my house, I am come to seek it in yours. Besides, I like plain and open situations; and I do not fear, especially at this moment in my life, categorical explanations and undisguised expressions,—blunt even, if we can understand each other better in that way. I heard such things yesterday that my ears now can lend themselves to anything. An act such as yours—a step such as I have taken—an interview like this that we are having, and which may lead to results so positive and so serious—are so exceptional that words of double meaning could not explain them. (Seating herself.) I have not long known you; I have never attempted to attract you by the least coquetry; I have never asked anything of you; and you have just dishonoured me morally and socially without my being able to defend myself. It is remarkably clever. Whatever I may say, no one will believe me. My husband, who loves me, will not believe me; and he has treated me accordingly. What have I done to you that you should think yourself authorized to inflict such a public affront on me, for, if it isn't public yet, it will be to-morrow.
Nourvady.
I have already told you: I love you.
Lionnette.