DUPONT. You must ask him. You will have children some day, I suppose?
JULIE [with a sigh] If it weren’t for that, I think I should go and drown myself.
DUPONT. That would be absurd. But we needn’t discuss that now. Only, if you don’t wish your children to be beggars, keep an eye on your husband’s business affairs.
JULIE. Very well. I will.
Antonin comes in.
ANTONIN [in a tone of mild reproach] M. Dupont, this is very annoying. Here are my parents coming to me to complain that you have called them swindlers. I must say it’s pretty hard on me if I can’t even spend a Sunday in the country in peace. From the moment you arrive on Saturday night you begin quarrelling. And now—swindlers! Come, come, M. Dupont, that’s not the sort of name one calls people, is it? They are very angry, and I don’t blame them.
DUPONT. Oh, it was really nothing.
ANTONIN. Maman is furious.
DUPONT. That’s absurd of her. You know what it is when people begin disputing; one word leads to another, and one says things one only half believes. However, to show how reasonable I am, I will go and make my apologies to Madame Mairaut. [To Madame Dupont] Come, my dear: you must do the talking.