Nanette. Monsieur Robert, why did you act in that way just now? Why did you go to that chair?
Robert. I don't know.
Nanette. When we came home from Aix les Bains I thought Madame would go wild. She tore her clothes. She went striding about the house from room to room calling at the top of her voice—Maurice, Maurice. She went into all the rooms, into his room, looking into the closets—everywhere—Then she came running down here. She went back into the back sitting room where she is now—then back into this room. At last she came to that chair.
Robert. To that chair, Nanette? Are you sure?
Nanette. To that very chair. Then she flung herself down into it and cried. That was the first time she had cried. I went away. When I came back she was still there. And then this strange and terrible change came over her.
Robert. How do you mean?
Nanette. A peculiar quiet, an awful calm like death—only more terrible.
Robert. Yes, that is how I felt.
Nanette. Just now in that chair?
Robert. Yes, just now.