MME. BERNIN. You see I’m right. I can’t say I’m proud to confess so much, but what are we to do? Life is ordered by things as they are, not like a novel. We live in a shrewd, vain, selfish world.
LUCIE. You despise it and yet sacrifice everything to it.
MME. BERNIN. I know that everybody’s happiness practically depends on the consideration he has in it. Only exceptional people can disregard social conventions, and Jacques is not an exception.
LUCIE. If I were you, I don’t think I should be proud of it. If he were a little more than commonplace, his love would give him strength to stand up against the jeers of the crowd.
MME. BERNIN. His love! Love passes, poverty stays; you know the proverb. Beauty fades; want grows.
LUCIE. But you yourself—you and your husband are the living proof that one can marry poor and make money! Everyone knows how your husband began as a small clerk, then started in a small business of his own, then won success. If that spells happiness, you and he must be happy.
MME. BERNIN. No; we have not been happy, because we have used ourselves up with hunting for happiness. We meant to ‘get there’; we have ‘got there,’ but at what a price! Oh, I know the road to fortune. At first miserable, sordid economy, passionate greed; then the fierce struggle of trickery and deceit, always flattering your customers, always living in terror of failure. Tears, lies, envy, contempt. Suffering for yourself and for everyone round you. I’ve been through it, and a bitter experience it was. We’re determined that our children shan’t. Our children! We have had only two, but we meant to have only one. That extra one meant double toil and hardship. Instead of being a husband and wife helping one another, we have been two business partners, watching each other like enemies, perpetually quarrelling, even on our very pillow, over our expenditure or our mistakes. Finally we succeeded; and now we can’t enjoy our wealth because we don’t know how to use it, and because our later years are poisoned by memories of the hateful past of suffering and rancor. No; I shall never expose my children to that struggle. I only stood it to preserve them from it. Good bye.
LUCIE. Good bye.
Madame Bernin goes out. After a moment Lucie goes slowly to Annette’s door and opens it.
ANNETTE [coming in] You’ve been crying! It’s because I’m going away, isn’t it? There’s nothing to prevent us, is there? [With rising emotion] Lucie, tell me there’s nothing!