JEAN. Yes, in Roumania the title of count can be had for cash, and so you'll be a countess after all. My countess!
JULIA. What do I care about all I now cast behind me! Tell me that you love me: otherwise—yes, what am I otherwise?
JEAN. I will tell you so a thousand times—later. But not here. And above all, no sentimentality, or everything will be lost. We must look at the matter in cold blood, like sensible people. [Takes out a cigar, cuts of the point, and lights it] Sit down there now, and I'll sit here, and then we'll talk as if nothing had happened.
JULIA. [In despair] Good Lord! Have you then no feelings at all?
JEAN. I? No one is more full of feeling than I am. But I know how to control myself.
JULIA. A while ago you kissed my shoe—and now!
JEAN. [Severely] Yes, that was then. Now we have other things to think of.
JULIA. Don't speak harshly to me!
JEAN. No, but sensibly. One folly has been committed—don't let us commit any more! The count may be here at any moment, and before he comes our fate must be settled. What do you think of my plans for the future? Do you approve of them?
JULIA. They seem acceptable, on the whole. But there is one question: a big undertaking of that kind will require a big capital have you got it?