JEANNE
What is it? What? Don't trouble, Emil! My head? No, no! My foot slipped—you know, the one that pained me. You see, I can walk now.
EMIL GRELIEU
A glass of water, Pierre.
JEANNE
What for? How absurd!
But Pierre had already gone out. Jeanne sits down, hangs her head, as one guilty, endeavoring not to look into his eyes.
JEANNE
What an excitable youth—your Pierre! Did you hear what he said?
EMIL GRELIEU