CHRISTINE. [Going right on] —and it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye than for a rich man to get into heaven. That's the way it is, Miss Julia. Now I am going, however-alone- and as I pass by, I'll tell the stableman not to let out the horses if anybody should like to get away before the count comes home. Good-bye! [Goes out.]
JEAN. Well, ain't she a devil!—And all this for the sake of a finch!
JULIA. [Apathetically] Never mind the finch!—Can you see any way out of this, any way to end it?
JEAN. [Ponders] No!
JULIA. What would you do in my place?
JEAN. In your place? Let me see. As one of gentle birth, as a woman, as one who has—fallen. I don't know—yes, I do know!
JULIA. [Picking up the razor with a significant gesture] Like this?
JEAN. Yes!—But please observe that I myself wouldn't do it, for there is a difference between us.
JULIA. Because you are a man and I a woman? What is the difference?
JEAN. It is the same—as—that between man and woman.