JEAN. Fly; travel; fly away from here.
JULIE. Travel? Yes! But where?
JEAN. To Switzerland, to the Italian lakes. Have you ever been there?
JULIE. No. Is it beautiful?
JEAN. An eternal summer. Orange trees, laurels—ah!
JULIE. But what shall we do there afterwards?
JEAN. We will start a first-class hotel for first-class guests.
JULIE. A hotel!
JEAN. That is the life to live, believe me. Always new faces, new languages, not a moment's leisure for worrying or dreaming, no seeking after employment, for work comes of itself. Night and day the bell rings, the trains whistle, the omnibuses come and go while the gold pieces roll into the till. That is a life to live.
JULIE. That is a life to live. And what of me?