Constance [rising] Have my chair, Mademoiselle.
Thérèse. No, thank you, I prefer to stand.
Charpin. I see that all our little lot's here. There's four on us, but only three 'er you.
Deschaume [meaningly] One of the hens ain't turned up yet.
Charpin [sniggering] Perhaps she's a bit shy, like.
Thérèse. You mean Mother Bougne. You, workmen yourselves, mock at an old woman wrecked by work. But you're right. She ought to be here. I'll go and fetch her. Only to look at her would be an argument on our side. [She goes out to the right]
Deschaume. Mademoiselle Thérèse needn't kick up such a dust about a little thing like that. There's four on us; so there must be four on you, in case we have to take a vote.
Thérèse comes back with Mother Bougne.
Thérèse [to the workmen] Give me a chair. [They do so] Sit down, Mother Bougne. [Insisting] Mother Bougne, sit down.
Mother Bougne. Oh, don't trouble, miss, I'm not used to—