ANNETTE [still kneeling] I didn’t know—I understood nothing. He took me by surprise. I had loved him for a long time. When he was with his regiment I used to look forward for weeks to his coming home on leave. Just the thought of seeing him used to make me tremble. Before I even knew myself that I was in love with him, he guessed it. He made me tell him so when he asked me to marry him. Then one day—his father and mother were away, and someone came and called Gabrielle, I don’t know why. When we were alone—I didn’t understand—I thought he had suddenly gone mad. But when he kissed me like that I was stunned—I couldn’t do any thing—happy, and afraid, and ashamed. That was three months ago. The next day I met him in the street. I was in such a state that he said, quite of himself ‘I shall speak at once to my people about our marriage.’ I know he meant it, because really he is honest and good. Only, I suppose he hadn’t courage. Then, when I found they were going away so soon, I said to him yesterday ‘You must speak.’ And now they don’t want me!
LUCIE. And he knows that—?
ANNETTE. No. No. Since that day—O, that day!—I’ve never been alone with him. We say ‘monsieur’ and ’mademoiselle’ when we meet and [in an awestruck tone] he is the father of my child.
LUCIE [after a silence] It’s not a question now of a girl not to be married because she is poor. It’s a question of atoning for a crime. Julien must speak to M. Bernin.
ANNETTE. You’re going to tell him?
LUCIE. I must. Go back to your room. You’re in no fit state to come to dinner. [She looks at the clock] I have only just time to dress. Directly the people are gone I shall speak to Jules. When do they go away?
ANNETTE. In a fortnight.
LUCIE. It’s no matter. Jules shall see M. Bernin tomorrow.
ANNETTE. He won’t. He’ll have nothing more to do with me.
LUCIE. No. He will do all he can to save you.