LUCIE. A week!
MME. B. Why does that surprise you?
LUCIE. Because she did not mention it to Annette.
MME. B. She was afraid of disappointing her.
LUCIE. Only yesterday Annette was telling me about all sorts of excursions your daughter was planning for them both. Madame, this invitation is an excuse: please tell me the whole truth. Annette is only my sister, but I love her as if she was my own child, and I speak as a mother to a mother. I’m not going to try to be clever or to stand on my dignity. This is how it is: Annette believes your son loves her, and when you were announced just now she thought you came to arrange her marriage with him. Now you know all that I know. Tell me the truth, and let us do what we can to prevent unhappiness.
MME. B. As you speak so simply and feelingly I will tell you candidly exactly what is in my mind. As a matter of fact this invitation to Gabrielle is only a device of ours to prevent Jacques and Annette seeing any more of one another.
LUCIE. Then you don’t want them to see any more of one another?
MME. B. No, because I don’t want them to marry.
LUCIE. Because Annette is poor?
MME. B [after some hesitation] Well—since we’re speaking plainly—yes, because she is poor. Ah, dear Madame Brignac, we have both been very much to blame for not foreseeing what has happened.