(Suzanne’s laugh is heard above the murmur of the conversation.)
Mme. de Céran. Suzanne!
Duchess. (To Madame de Céran) Lead out young Euripides and his press agent! Get rid of the lot of them!
Mme. de Céran. Now ladies, shall we go into the large drawing-room and hear the reading? (To Des Millets) Are you ready, Monsieur?
Des Millets. As you please, Madame la comtesse.
Paul. (Aside to Jeanne) Age before beauty!
Mme. de Céran. Come, ladies!
Mme. de Loudan. (Intercepting her) Oh, but first, Countess, let us—the ladies and me—carry out our little plot! (Going to Bellac, and saying with an air of supplication) Monsieur Bellac?
Bellac. Marquise?
Mme. de Loudan. I want to ask a great favor of you.