JEAN. For what? Are you a child at twenty-five? Don't you know that it is dangerous to play with fire?
JULIE. Not for me. I am insured!
JEAN. No, you are not. But even if you are, there is inflammable material in the neighborhood.
JULIE. Might that be you?
JEAN. Yes, not because it is I, but because I'm a young man—
JULIE [Scornfully]. With a grand opportunity—what inconceivable presumption! A Don Juan perhaps! Or a Joseph! On my soul, I believe he is a Joseph!
JEAN. You do?
JULIE. Almost.
[Jean rushes towards her and tries to take her in his arms to kiss her.]
JULIE [Gives him a box on the ear]. Shame on you.