PERCINET. But who prepared the spring night? Was that Straforel? Did he also sprinkle the sky with stars? Did he plant roses, did he create the gray of evening and the blue mists of night? Did he have anything to do with the rising of that huge pink star?
SYLVETTE. No, of course—
PERCINET. Was it his doing that we were two children of twenty, on a spring night, and that we loved each other? We loved, that was the charm—all the charm!
SYLVETTE. All the—? That's true, yet—
PERCINET. A tear? Am I then—forgiven?
SYLVETTE. I have always loved you, my poor dear.
PERCINET. At last I have you again! [He takes SYLVETTE's scarf and plays with it.] What beautiful shades and lights in this gorgeous satin.
SYLVETTE. What satin?
PERCINET. Oh, nothing! Nothing!
SYLVETTE. But it's only muslin!