MME. DUPONT. That may succeed with healthy children, but at the age of three months a sickly child such as ours cannot be fed by hand. Such a child has all the more need of being fed at the breast. That is true?
DOCTOR. Yes; but—
MME. DUPONT. In that case you will realize that between the life of the child and the health of a nurse I have no choice.
GEORGE [sobbing] Oh! Oh! Oh!
DOCTOR. Your affection leads you to express an incredible sentiment. But it is not for you to choose. I shall forbid the child to be brought up at the breast. The health of this woman does not belong to you.
MME. DUPONT. Nor the life of our child to you. If there is one way to save its life, it is to give it every possible attention, and you want me to treat it in a way that you doctors condemn even for healthy children. My little one! You think I will let her die like that! Oh, I shall take good care she does not. Neglect the one single thing that can save her! It would be criminal. As for the nurse, we will indemnify her. We will do everything in our power, everything but that. No, no, no! Whatever can be done for our baby shall be done, cost what it may. But that—You don’t consider what you are asking. It would be as if I killed my child. [Bursting into tears] Oh, my little angel, my own little Saviour!
George has not stopped sobbing since he first began. At his mother’s last words his sobs become almost cries. His anguish is pitiable to see.
GEORGE. Oh, oh, oh! My little child! My little child! Oh, oh! [In an undertone] Oh, what a scoundrel I am! What a criminal!
DOCTOR. Calm yourself, madam, I beg. You will not improve matters in this way. Try to consider them coolly.