Thérèse [looking at her knowingly] You'll make me blush.
Mademoiselle de Meuriot. Was it for love of you?
Thérèse. I think it was for love of me. Let me tell you. He wanted to see me again, and he waited at the door when I was coming out from my work, just as if I was a little milliner's assistant. And then he came back another evening, and then another. While we were walking from here to my place we chattered, and chattered, and chattered. We had more to say to each other than we'd ever had before, and I began to realize that his want of will and energy was more the result of always hanging on to his people than anything else. Then there came a crash. [She laughs] A most fortunate crash. His father formally ordered him not to see me again; threatened, if he did, to stop his allowance. What do you think my René did? He sent back the cheque his people had just given him with quite a nice, civil, respectful letter. Then he left his office and got a place in a business house at an absurdly small salary, and he's been working there ever since. [Laughing] He shocked all the other young men in the office by the way he stuck to it. He got gradually interested in what he had to do. He read it all up; the heads of the firm noticed him and were civil to him, and now they've sent him on important business to Tunis. And that's what he's done all for love of me! Now, don't you think I ought to care for him a little? Don't you?
Mademoiselle de Meuriot. Yes, my dear. But then if he's in Tunis?
Thérèse. Oh, he'll come back.
Mademoiselle de Meuriot. And when will the wedding be?
Thérèse. He's sure his people will give in in the end if he can make some money. We shall wait.
The page boy comes in with seven or eight round parcels in his arms.
Boy. Here are this morning's manuscripts.
Mademoiselle de Meuriot. Put them with the others.