Nanette. That was a lie she told you. The Germans found him. It was they who had the privilege of putting him away to his final rest. He had just won his cross.
Robert. He won the cross!
Nanette. Yes, didn't you hear? That very week. [Almost overcome with emotion she rises.] We have it now. [She goes out back a moment and returns with a small black box which she opens reverently.] Here is all that we have left of Maurice. [She hands him a picture post card.] This was taken only the day before.... [She hands him a letter.] This was the last letter ... you can see the date.... He was never so confident or full of life.... There is even a joke about me. He was always making fun of me. I don't know why. [She hands him a revolver.] Here is his revolver. [She takes out the small box with the cross of war and hesitates to give it to him.] This—this is what we have left in place of Maurice. [With a violent look she opens the box and then suddenly hands it to him.]
Robert. You mustn't look on it in that way, Nanette.
Nanette. I can't help it.
Robert [reading]. Maurice Paul le Bargy. Little Maurice! He was never meant for action either. Do you remember how we used to tease him? He hated to make any decision. He loved life's dreams and nuances.
Nanette. He was nothing but a dreamer. Madame and I were talking only yesterday of his garden—did we ever tell you of the garden he had when he was a boy?
Robert [handing her the box very carefully]. No. Tell me about the garden.
Nanette. He made himself a garden, everything in it was arranged as if for people only an inch high.
Robert. But there are no such people.