JEANNE. Yes, but don't speak of it—And then?
MAURICE. Then we are on firm ground, and then you and Marion will bear the name I have made famous.
JEANNE. You love me then?
MAURICE. I love both of you, equally much, or perhaps Marion a little more.
JEANNE. I am glad of it, for you can grow tired of me, but not of her.
MAURICE. Have you no confidence in my feelings toward you?
JEANNE. I don't know, but I am afraid of something, afraid of something terrible—
MAURICE. You are tired out and depressed by your long wait, which once more I ask you to forgive. What have you to be afraid of?
JEANNE. The unexpected: that which you may foresee without having any particular reason to do so.
MAURICE. But I foresee only success, and I have particular reasons for doing so: the keen instincts of the management and their knowledge of the public, not to speak of their personal acquaintance with the critics. So now you must be in good spirits—