Paul. Oh!
Mme. de Céran. (Reading) “Revel very ill.” Just what I thought. Saint-Réault isn’t losing much time. (Handing the paper to Paul) I found out what I wanted to know, thank you. But I shan’t keep you, you shall be shown to your rooms. We dine sharp at six; you know the Duchess is very punctual. At four tea is served; at five we take a stroll and at six have dinner. (The clock strikes four) Ah, four already, and here she is! (The Duchess enters, followed by Francois, who brings her chair and her work-basket. A maid brings tea. The Duchess sits in the chair placed for her) My dear Aunt, allow me to present——
Duchess. (Settling herself) Wait a minute—wait a minute. There! Present whom? (She looks through her lorgnette) It isn’t Raymond that you want to present, is it? I’ve known him for a long time.
Paul. (Advancing with Jeanne) No, Duchess, but Madame Paul Raymond, his wife,—if you please!
Duchess. (Gazing at Jeanne, who bows) She’s pretty—very pretty! With my Suzanne, and Lucy, despite her glasses, that makes three pretty women in my house—and heaven knows that’s not too many! (She drinks) And how on earth did a charming girl like you happen to marry that awful Republican?
Paul. (Chaffingly) Oh, Duchess, I a Republican!
Duchess. Well, you were one, at least! (She drinks again)
Paul. Oh, well, like everyone else, when I was little. That is the measles of politics, Duchess, everybody has to have it.
Duchess. (Laughing) Ah, oh, ah, the measles! Isn’t he funny! (To Jeanne) And you, my dear, you like a joke once in a while, too?
Jeanne. Oh, Duchess, I have no objection to a little frivolity—in moderation.