LUCIE. Yes.
ANNETTE [madly] I must see him. I’ll write to him. I must see him! If they don’t want me, I’ve nothing but to kill myself!
LUCIE [forcing Annette to look at her] Look at me, Annette. [Silence. Then in the same grave, tender voice] Have you not a secret to trust me with?
ANNETTE [disengaging herself] Don’t ask me anything [very low] or I shall die of shame at your feet.
Lucie forces her to sit down at her side and takes her in her arms.
LUCIE. Come, come here, in my arms. So. Put your head on my shoulder, as you used when you were tiny. Tell me, what is it? [Quite low] My sweet, my little darling, are you terribly, terribly unhappy? Speak out, from your heart, as you would to our poor mother.
ANNETTE [very low, in tears of shame] Oh, mother, if you knew what your little girl had done!
LUCIE [almost nursing her] Tell me; whisper, quite low, in my ear. [She rises and breaks loose, then hides her face in her hands]. Oh, you, Annette, you!
ANNETTE [on her knees, her arms stretched out] Forgive me! Forgive me! My dear one, forgive me! Oh, I deserve it all, everything you can say; but, oh, I am so unhappy!
LUCIE. You, Annette, you!