Mme. de Céran. Oh, but in private! You understand me perfectly.
Suzanne. Let’s not talk about “in private!” When anyone has a secret, he writes it—(Aside to Roger between her teeth) in a disguised hand!
Mme. de Céran. What?
Roger. (Aside) Aunt!
Duchess. (Aside) Shh!
Mme. de Céran. Well?
Suzanne. Well, Lucy speaks to whomever she likes; Lucy goes out whenever she wants to; Lucy dresses just as she likes. I want to do just like Lucy, because every one loves her!
Mme. de Céran. And do you know why everyone loves her, Mademoiselle? Because, in spite of her plainness—a necessary consequence of her nationality—she is serious, dignified and cultured—
Suzanne. (Rising) And what about me? Haven’t I been all that? For the last six months up to this very evening at five o’clock, I worked hard without resting, and I studied as much as she did; and I learned as much as she did: “objective” and “subjective” and all that! And what good did it all do me? Does anyone love me better for it? Doesn’t everyone always treat me just as if I were a little girl? Everyone!! Everyone!! (Looking sidewise at Roger) Who pays any attention to me? Suzanne, Suzanne!! What does Suzanne count for! And all because I’m not an old English woman!
Roger. Suzanne!