DUPONT. Never you mind. I know it. And now really we have had enough of this. You think that a whim of yours is to upset all my plans, prevent me from increasing my printing business and retiring next year, as we intended, your mother and I. You think we haven’t—I haven’t—worked enough, I suppose. You don’t wish us to have a little rest before we die? You think I have not earned that rest, perhaps? Answer me! You think I have not earned it?
JULIE. Of course you have, father.
DUPONT [mollified] Very well, then. Still, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t press you for a definite answer to-day. All I ask is that you won’t be obstinate, or refuse to let us present Antonin to you as a possible husband, if his parents make any advances. That is all. You will, then, talk with him, ask him questions. Naturally, you must get to know each other.
MME. DUPONT. Think carefully, my child.
DUPONT. Make up your mind whether you wish to follow the example of that great stupid Caroline.
MME. DUPONT. You are quite old enough to be married. [A pause].
DUPONT. Answer. Aren’t you old enough to be married?
JULIE. Quite, father.
DUPONT. Have you any other offers?