CAROLINE. Yes. [Pause] Why should you mind, mother, if I—
MME. DUPONT. I? Not the least in the world. Do as you please. You are old enough to decide for yourself.
JULIE [who has been reading one of the papers] Is Courthezon down in the office? I should like the next part of this.
MME. DUPONT. You know quite well your father doesn’t like you to read the proofs of the stories he has to print.
JULIE. I have no others. Listen to this: isn’t it too bad to have to stop there? [Reads] ‘Solange was still in Robert’s arms. At this moment the Count entered, menacing, terrible, his revolver in his hand.’ I do so want to know what happened next!
CAROLINE. The Count will kill them, of course. It is his right.
JULIE. I wonder.
CAROLINE. According to law.
JULIE. That’s no reason. I want to read over again where Robert comes in. It’s lovely. And the meeting with Solange in Italy, one evening in May. Where is it? Ah, here! [Reads] ‘Under the deep blue of the sky, picked out by stars, by the shore of the calm sea that a perfumed breeze just ruffled, and in which were reflected with the stars above the many distant lights of Mentone and of Monte Carlo—’
MME. DUPONT [smiling] And your father imagines he has cured you of all such foolishness!