MME. DUPONT. True. But—
DUPONT. But. But. There you go. You’re determined never to see anything that is more than an inch before your nose. I don’t blame you for it. Women are like that.
MME. DUPONT. But suppose he disinherits Antonin?
DUPONT. You forget I shall be there. I flatter myself I shall know how to prevent Uncle Maréchal from disinheriting his nephew. Besides, what is Uncle Maréchal?
MME. DUPONT. Antonin’s uncle.
DUPONT. You don’t understand. I ask you what he is. What is his position, I mean.
MME. DUPONT. He’s head clerk at the Prefecture.
DUPONT. Exactly. And he could get me the contract for all the printing work at his office. Thirty thousand francs a year! How much profit does that mean?
MME. DUPONT. Five thousand francs.
DUPONT. Five thousand? Ten thousand! If one is only to make the ordinary trade profit, what’s the good of Government contracts?