Jeanne. (Drawing Paul down beside her) Come, dear!
Paul. (Sits down, then gets up and walks about, agitated) What a house! And the hosts, and the guests, and everybody else! And Madame Arriégo! And that poet! And the Marquise! And that English iceberg! And Roger the wooden man! The Duchess is the only one with any common-sense!
Duchess. That for me!
Paul. (With conviction) But the rest, oh, my, oh, my!
Duchess. And that for you!
Jeanne. Oh, come, dear, sit by me!
Paul. (Seating himself, and rising again as before) And the lectures and the Literature! And Revel’s candidacy! Clever old fox who keeps dying every evening and coming back to life every morning! (He starts to sit down, then he pauses) And Saint-Réault! Ah! Saint-Réault! And the Ramas-Ravanas and all the clap-trap about Buddha!
Mme. de Céran. (Indignantly) Oh!
Duchess. (Laughing to herself) Oh, he’s so funny!
Paul. And the other one, he’s a wonder! Bellac of the many conquests, with his Platonic love!!