Guéret. Well, let's hear why.
Féliat. You want to know. Well, because you've been jealous of Thérèse ever since she came here six months ago.
Guéret. Oh, I say!
Féliat. That's it; my sister can't endure her.
Guéret. Marguerite—
Féliat. You know she wouldn't even see her when she came down from Paris; and if Thérèse got work here, it was in spite of Marguerite. I was wiser than you about this. The girl's courage appealed to me. She's plucky and intelligent. Oh, I don't want to make myself out cleverer than I am. I took her a bit out of pity, and I thought she'd draw me a few designs; that was all I expected. But she has energy and initiative. She organized the two workrooms, and now she's got the whole thing into order by starting this Union.
Guéret. The Hen's Union.
Féliat. What?
Guéret. That's what the men call her Union. You should hear the things they say about it.
Féliat. Well, long live the Hen's Union! A hen's plucky when it has to be.