Because, having no relations, not a single true friend in this world, as is only to be expected in a millionaire like me; because, loving you as you deserve to be loved, in life and in death, I have made my will, in which I have said that you are the loveliest and purest woman I have ever met; that your husband, who will kill me, has unjustly suspected you, and that I entreat you, in compensation for the suspicion of which, my admiration and my esteem have involuntarily been the cause, to graciously accept for your son all that I possess, notwithstanding that I also detest that son.
Lionnette.
Why?
Nourvady.
Because that child is the living proof of your love for your husband.
Lionnette (aside).
Alas! The child proves nothing. (Aloud) Never mind, all that is not ordinary, and you would, perhaps, finish by convincing me—with your death—provided that all this be true. If it be not true, it is well concocted.
Nourvady.
Why should I deceive you? And what would you like me to do with my fortune if I die? What good would it be to me without my life, and in life what should I do with it without you? Whereas, if I die, my will is there by the side of the title deeds of proprietorship of this house, which you would only have had to sign if you had consented to be its owner during my life (he points to a cabinet at the bottom of the room), and your pocket money is here (he shows the coffer).
Lionnette.