Madame. Why—why not?
Bishop. Because it has always belonged to the poor. I have withheld it wrongfully.
Mlle. Its loss makes no difference to Madame or me.
Madame. Oh, no! But what is your Reverence to eat from now?
Bishop. Are there no pewter plates?
Madame. Pewter has an odor.
Madame. Iron has a taste.
Bishop. Well, then, wooden plates.
[A knock is heard at street door.]