BRIGNAC. All right.
The clerk goes out. Brignac glances at the addresses and sorts the letters into several piles without opening the envelopes.
LUCIE. That little ceremony always amuses me.
BRIGNAC. What ceremony? Sorting my letters?
LUCIE. Without opening them.
BRIGNAC. I know what’s inside by looking at them.
LUCIE. Nonsense!
BRIGNAC. Don’t you believe it? Well, look. Here’s one from the mayor of St. Sauveur. Something he asks me to forward to the préfet. [He opens it and hands the letter to his wife, who does not take it] There!
LUCIE. Why doesn’t he send it direct to the préfet?
BRIGNAC. What would be the use of us then?