Carolina. I am very sorry to hear it because I am awfully fond of sweetmeats. I adore bonbons and marrons glacés, and nobody here has as good ones as Sanchez, nor anywhere else for that matter.
Paquita. In that case you had as well deny yourself, unless you are prepared to invite criticism. Somolino's wife is the only woman who enters the shop and faces the French girl, who gave her a receipt for dyeing her hair on the spot. You must have noticed how she is doing it now.
Carolina. I hadn't noticed.
Eudosia. It is not jet-black any more; it is baby-pink—so she is having the Frenchwoman manicure her nails twice a week. Have you noticed the condition of her nails? They are the talk of the town.
[A pause.]
Paquita. Well, I trust he is satisfied.
Carolina. Who is he?
Paquita. I do not call him your husband. Oh, our poor, dear brother!
Carolina. I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about.
Eudosia. So he has had his way at last and desecrated the statue of our poor brother with the figures of those naked women?