Lucienne. Persuade him to!
Thérèse. It's quite impossible. His people are rich. Only just think what they'd suspect me of. No; I shall tell him all the things his father will tell him. But oh! Lucienne, if he had an answer for them! If he had an answer! [She cries a little] But, my poor René, he won't make any stand.
Lucienne. How you love him!
Thérèse. Oh, yes; I love him. He's rather weak, but he's so loyal and good and [in a very low voice] loving.
Lucienne. Oh, my dear, I do pity you so.
Thérèse. I am to be pitied, really. [Pulling herself together] There's one thing. I shall take advantage of this business to separate from godpapa and godmamma.
Lucienne. But you have no money—
Thérèse. I've not been any too happy here. You know they're—[She sees Madame Guéret and whispers to Lucienne] Go now. I'll tell you all about it to-morrow. [Louder and gayly] Well, good-night, my dear. See you to-morrow at the Palais de Glace or at the Sorbonne! Good-night.
Lucienne. Good-night, Thérèse.
She goes out.