Eudosia. But go on! Page two hundred and fourteen. Is that the page, Paquita?
Paquita. It begins on page two hundred and fourteen, but before it amounts to anything turn the page.
Carolina. Quick, quick! Let me see. What does he say? What are these letters? What is this? He says that I.... But there is not a word of truth in it. My husband could never have written this.
Eudosia. But there it is in cold type. You don't suppose they would dare to print—
Carolina. But this is outrageous; this book is a libel. It invades the private life—the most private part of it! It must be stopped.
Eudosia. It cannot be stopped. You will soon see whether or not it can be stopped.
Paquita. Probably the edition is exhausted by this time.
Carolina. Is that so? We shall see! We shall see!—Florencio! Florencio! Come quickly! Florencio!
Eudosia. Perhaps he has not yet returned.
Paquita. He seemed to be enjoying himself.