Paul. Mademoiselle! [Taking the flower.] How can I thank you?
Blanche. I also am a maid of France, monsieur. You are a soldier and you fight for France. But I must sell my flowers now. Perhaps, when I have sold them, I will come again to see if Jeanne has spoken.
Paul. You think she will?
Blanche. Monsieur, have faith. All things are possible on Christmas Eve. [She moves L. Paul goes to the statue and puts the lily on its breast.]
Blanche. Holy Virgin, the lies I've told! What simplicity! But Jeanne might. She might. [Exit Blanche L. Paul stands, watching. An English lieutenant, Gerald Soames, enters R., carrying a small wreath of evergreens. He is awkward and self-conscious and stops short when he sees Paul, annoyed in the English way at being found out in an act of sentiment. By consequence, the little ceremony he had proposed falls short of the impressiveness he designed for it.]
Gerald. O Lord, there's a fellow there. Er—[Paul salutes.] Oh—er—c'est ici la statue de Jeanne d'Arc, n'est-ce pas?
Paul. Mais oui, monsieur.
Gerald. And that's about as far as my French will go. I say, you're not on duty, are you? Vous n'êtes pas de garde?
Paul. Non, monsieur.
Gerald. No, of course you're not. Damned silly question to ask. All the same, I wish he'd take a hint. I say. Lord, I've forgotten the French for "have a drink." Besides, he couldn't. It's too late. I'll just do what I came for and go. [Puts back into pocket the coin he had taken out.] After all, the fellow's as good a right to be here as I have. I'll have one more shot. N'avez-vous pas des affaires?