George.
How pious and tame you have suddenly become!
Marie.
I am not pious.
George.
What was that you said a few moments ago? "I am the calamity child. I am the child of misery; but I do not ask for charity." That is what you said of yourself, and it is also true of me. I, too, am a child of misery, a calamity child; but I am a subject of charity. I accept all they have to give--all--all--ha, ha, ha----!
Marie.
You, George, a calamity child?
George.
Yes! Was I not picked up from the street, as my uncle so kindly informed me for the second time--like yourself? Do I not belong to this house, and am I not smothered with the damnable charity of my benefactors, like yourself?