ANGÈLE. Good morning, father.
They hesitate for a moment as to whether they should kiss one another, then make up their minds to do so. Dupont places a chill salute on either cheek of Angèle. Still silent, Angèle goes up to Madame Dupont and kisses her with the same frigidity.
MME. DUPONT. Good morning, Angèle.
ANGÈLE. Good morning, mother. [They look at one another without a word].
DUPONT [overcoming a momentary emotion] Let us sit down. [They sit. Then he addresses Angèle in the tone he might have used if she had only gone away the previous evening] Thank you for coming.
ANGÈLE. I came for my sister’s sake. For Caroline. I was very fond of her. [A pause]. Is she married?
DUPONT. No. She has never wished to marry.
ANGÈLE. Yet she is thirty-three.
DUPONT [to his wife] Thirty-three or thirtyfour?
MME. DUPONT. Thirty-three.