DUPONT. Thanks. [He gives Caroline’s hat to Madame Dupont] Take this thing away. And these stockings. Hide them somewhere. You don’t want to appear to do your own darning, confound it! It’s extraordinary you shouldn’t have thought of that. [Madame Dupont goes out, returning in a moment. Dupont continues mechanically to Julie] It is for you to weigh the pros and cons. This is better. Vicomte de Liverolles; M. L’Abbé Candar, Honorary Canon; Ange Nitron, Ex-Municipal Councillor. That will look well enough. The Wagner score on the piano, open, of course. That’s right. There’s something else I want, though. Julie, the box of cigars which M. Gueroult sent me when he was elected to the Chamber.
JULIE [bringing a box] Here it is.
DUPONT. Give it me.
JULIE. You haven’t begun it yet.
DUPONT. Wait. [He rummages in his pocket and takes out a knife, which he opens] We must show them that other people besides deputies smoke cigars at five sous. [He opens the box] Without being proud, one has one’s dignity to keep up. There! [He takes a handful of cigars and gives them to his daughter] Put those in the drawer so that the box mayn’t seem to have been opened on purpose for them. [He arranges the box on the table]. A fashion paper? Excellent! And for myself [to Mme. Dupont] Léontine, give me a fresh ribbon of my Order of Christ. This one is faded. [To his daughter] He is twenty-eight. He is good looking and distinguished. He passed his law examination at Bordeaux. [He puts a fresh ribbon in his coat and looks at himself for a considerable time in the glass]. In a town where I was not known this would be as good as the Legion of Honour. [He turns round]. Well? Have you made up your mind?
JULIE. I should like more time to think it over.
DUPONT. You have still a quarter of an hour.
MME. DUPONT. She would like a few days, perhaps.
DUPONT. That’s it. Shilly shally! We are to have the story of that great stupid Caroline over again, are we? No! Your sister, whom you see now an old maid, who will never be married, unless her aunt in Calcutta leaves her some money—your sister, too, had her chance one day. She hum’d and ha’d; she wanted to think it over. And you see the result. That’s what thinking it over leads to. Here she is, still on my hands!
MME. DUPONT. You mustn’t say that. She earns her own living.