(getting up with irritation and walking away)
Oh, let me alone, Pierrette! You wouldn’t understand. Get some supper for yourself. I don’t want any.
(She looks at him troubled for a moment. Then she runs to him, puts her hands on his breast.)
PIERRETTE
Pierrot.
PIERROT
Well?
PIERRETTE
(pointing an accusing finger at him slowly)
You—haven’t—been—to—see—your—bank—account—again?