The doctor comes back.
MME. DUPONT. Here is the doctor. You may go, nurse; that is all right.
NURSE. Yes, ma’am. [To herself] What’s up, then? A thousand francs? What’s the matter with the baby? Has she got something bad, I wonder? [She passes to the left, between the desk and window, and goes out].
DOCTOR. The condition is unchanged. There is no need for anxiety. [He sits down at the desk to write a prescription].
MME. DUPONT. I am glad to tell you, doctor, that you can now devote yourself to the baby and the nurse without misgiving. While you have been away we have informed the nurse of the circumstances, and agreed with her that she shall stay with us in return for a certain sum of money.
DOCTOR. The disease which the nurse will almost infallibly contract in giving her milk to the child is, I fear, too serious to be made the subject of a bargain, however large the sum of money. She might be completely crippled, even if she did not die of it.
MME. DUPONT. But she accepts.
DOCTOR. It is not only that she would be rendered incapable of serving in future as wet nurse without danger to the infants she suckled. The results of the disease to herself might be inconsiderable; but at the same time, I repeat, they might, in spite of everything we could do, cast a terrible blight upon her life.
MME. DUPONT. But I tell you she accepts. She has the right to do what she pleases.