Laura (after a pause, during which she has been looking fixedly at MATHILDE). Could you be that?
Mathilde. No!—I must be first or nothing!
Laura. But about her?
Mathilde. The wife?
Laura. Yes. What happens to her?
Mathilde. Directly she realises that love for another has taken possession of her husband, she turns towards him with all her heart; but it is too late then. (LAURA sits absorbed for a few moments; then gets up hurriedly and goes to a little work-table that is standing at the end of the couch on the left, opens it, looks for something in it, stops to think, then looks in it again.) What are you looking for?
Laura. A photograph.
Mathilde. Axel's?
Laura. No—but what has become of it?
Mathilde. Don't you remember that one day you took it up and said you would not have it? So I hid it.