Guérin. Don't you think I have a right?
Françoise. Stop!
Guérin. I shall not try to kill him. You love him too much! I couldn't do it now. In striking him I should be injuring you, and you don't deserve to suffer; you have betrayed no one. The happiness you have just taught me to know is as sacred and inviolable as my honor, my unhappiness. I shall not seek revenge.
Françoise [gratefully]. Oh, Monsieur.
Guérin. I am willing he should live, because he is so dear, so necessary to you. Keep him. If he wants to spoil your happiness, his be the blame! I shall not do it. It would be sacrilege. Good-by, Madame, good-by.
[Guérin goes out, back, Françoise falls into a chair, sobbing.]
[Enter Marcel by the little door.]
Marcel [aside, with a melancholy air]. Refused to see me!
Françoise [distinctly]. Oh, it's you!
Marcel [good-humoredly]. Yes, it's I. [A pause. He goes toward her.] You have been crying! Have you seen Guérin? He's been here!