Lucy. No, I was looking for—I—it was another matter.
Duchess. I don’t suppose it is for that Schopenhauer gentleman you are all dressed up like that, is it?
Lucy. Is there not to be company this evening, Madame?
Duchess. (Aside to Mme. de Céran) Bellac, that’s as plain as day! (To Lucy) Let me congratulate you, then. I have nothing to complain of, except those frightful glasses. Why do you wear such awful things?
Lucy. Because I cannot see without them, Madame.
Duchess. A nice reason! (Aside) Isn’t she practical! I detest practical people! She’ll pass, she’s not as thin as I thought she was! These English occasionally disappoint one pleasantly!
Mme. de Céran. Ah, here’s my son!
(Enter Roger.)
Roger. Mother! Mother! How good it is to see you again!
Mme. de Céran. How good it is to see you, my dear! (She holds out her hand, which he kisses)