Mme. de Céran. Suzanne! The idea!
Suzanne. (To Bellac, as he returns her handkerchief) Oh, keep it, I’m going to get you a drink.
Mme. de Loudan. (Going toward the table before which Saint-Réault spoke, upon which is a tray and glasses of sugar-and-water) Here, drink!
Roger. (Aside to the Duchess) Look, Aunt!
Duchess. She’s too brazen about it to be in earnest.
Bellac. (Aside to Lucy) And are you convinced?
Lucy. Oh, for my part, the concept of love—No, I’ll tell you later!
Bellac. In a little while?
Lucy. Yes—would you like a glass of water? (She goes up-stage)
Mme. de Loudan. (Arriving with a glass of water) No! Let me! The god must pardon me: I can offer you only water, as the secret of Nectar-making is lost!