Lucienne. Yes, yes; well—almost. [Féliat makes a sign of protest] I saw you watching us yesterday after the rehearsal! You saw I was flirting, and I know you imagined all sorts of horrid things. Our little flirtations are not what you think. When we flirt we play at love-making with our best boys, just as once upon a time we played at mothering with our dolls.
Féliat. But that doesn't justify—
Thérèse. You don't understand. People spoil us while we're children, and then look after us so tremendously carefully when we grow up that we guess there must be delightful and dangerous possibilities about us. Flirting is our way of feeling for these possibilities.
Lucienne. We're sharpening our weapons.
Thérèse. But the foils have buttons on them, and the pistols are only loaded with powder.
Lucienne. And it's extremely amusing and does no harm to anybody.
Thérèse. Monsieur Féliat, you've read bad books. Nowadays girls like us are neither bread-and-butter misses nor demi-vierges. We're perfectly respectable young people. Quite capable and self-possessed and, at the same time, quite straight and very happy.
Féliat. I'm perfectly sure of it, my dear young ladies. But you know I've had a great deal of experience.
Thérèse. Oh, experience! Well, you know—
Lucienne. Oh, experience!