Françoise [jealously]. Are you going to leave me?
Marcel. I am just going to Goupil's and tell him.
Françoise. Then I'll have to lunch all by myself! [Marcel stops an instant before the mirror.] You look lovely.
Marcel [turning round]. I—
Françoise. Oh, you'll succeed!
[A pause.]
Marcel [enchanted, in spite of himself]. What can you be thinking of! [Aside.] What if she were after all my happiness? [Reproachfully.] Now, Françoise—
Françoise. I was only joking.
Marcel [ready to leave]. No moping, remember? I can't have that!
Françoise. I know!