LUCIE. No. But all the same—this slavery—
BRIGNAC. What?
LUCIE. Yes, slavery. After all you are disposing of my health, my sufferings, my life—of a year of my existence, calmly, without consulting me.
BRIGNAC. Do I do it out of selfishness? Do you suppose I am not a most unhappy husband all the time I have a future mother at my side instead of a loving wife? ’A father is a man all the same.’
LUCIE [ironically] Oh, you are most unhappy, aren’t you?
BRIGNAC. Yes.
LUCIE. Rubbish!
BRIGNAC. Rubbish?
LUCIE. You evidently take me for a fool.
BRIGNAC. I don’t understand.