BRIGNAC. The mayor invited the members to luncheon and we have invited them to dinner.
LUCIE. Well?
BRIGNAC. The Council of Revision is composed of a Councillor to the Prefecture, a general Councillor, a district Councillor—I leave out the doctor—and the mayors of the communes concerned—the mayors of the communes concerned. I shall profit by the chance of having them all together after dinner to-night—after a dinner where the champagne will be decanted, mind you—to impress them with my own enthusiasm and conviction. They shall create local committees, and I shall presently announce the formation of those committees to the authorities. So even if Balureau doesn’t get into power, I shall sooner or later force the Minister to say, ’But why don’t we give a man like Brignac a really active post?’ This is a first-rate opening for us: I saw it at a glance. After dinner I shall shew them my diagram. You must make my office into a cloak-room, and—
LUCIE [interrupting] Why? There’s room in the hall.
BRIGNAC. I can’t put the diagram in the hall, and I want an excuse for bringing them all through the office. Some day the Colonel may meet the Minister of the Interior and say to him: ‘I saw in the sous-préfecture at Châteauneuf’—
LUCIE [interrupting again] All right. As you like.
BRIGNAC. You trust to me. You don’t understand anything about it. You didn’t even know how a Council of Revision was made up,—you, the wife of a sous-préfet. And yet every year we give them a dinner. And we’ve been married four years.
LUCIE [gently and pleasantly] Now think for a minute. We’ve been married four years, that’s true. But this time three years was just after Edmée was born: two years ago I was expecting little Louise; and last year after weaning her I was ill. Remember too that if I had nursed the last one myself I could not be at dinner tonight, as she is only two months old.
BRIGNAC. You complain of that?
LUCIE [laughing] No: but I am glad to be having a holiday.