Scene:—A Louis XV sitting-room. To the right a large recessed window with small panes of glass which forms a partition dividing the sitting-room from an inner room. A heavy curtain on the further side shuts out this other room. There are a table and piano and doors to the right and at the back. The place is in disorder. One of the panes in the large window has been taken out and replaced by a movable panel. It is October.
Madame Guéret is sitting at a table. She is a woman of forty-five, dressed for the afternoon, cold and distinguished looking. Monsieur Guéret, who is with her, is about fifty-five and is wearing a frock coat. He is standing beside his wife.
Guéret. Then you really don't want me to go and hear the third act?
Madame Guéret [dryly] I think as I've been let in for these theatricals solely to please your goddaughter you may very well keep me company. Besides, my brother is coming back and he has something to say to you.
Guéret [resignedly] Very well, my dear.
A pause.
Madame Guéret. I can't get over it.
Guéret. Over what?
Madame Guéret. What we're doing. What are we doing?
Guéret. We're giving a performance of Barberine for the amusement of our friends. There's nothing very extraordinary in that.