Louis [despondently]. Perhaps it is. To return to my other deficiencies, I do not understand why this spy who followed us from Paris has not arrested me long before now. I do not understand why you hate me. I do not understand the world in general. And in particular I do not understand the art of forgery. [He throws down his pen.]
Eloise. You talk of "patience"! How often have I explained that you would not need passports of any kind if you would let me throw off my incognito. If anyone questions you, it will be sufficient if I give my name. All France knows the Citizeness Eloise d'Anville. Do you suppose the officer on the quay would dare oppose—
Louis [with a gesture of resignation]. I know you think it.
Eloise [angrily]. You tempt me not to prove it. But for Anne's sake—
Louis. Not for mine. That, at least, I understand. [He rises.] My dear cousin, I am going to be very serious—
Eloise. O heaven! [She flings away from him.]
Louis [plaintively]. I shall not make another oration—
Eloise. Make anything you choose. [Drumming the floor with her foot.] What does it matter?
Louis. I have a presentiment—I ask you to listen—
Eloise [in her irritation almost screaming]. How can I help but listen? And Anne, too! [With a short laugh.] You know as well as I do that when that door is open everything you say in this room is heard in there. [She points to the open doorway, where Madame de Laseyne instantly makes her appearance, and after exchanging one fiery glance with Eloise as swiftly withdraws, closing the door behind her with outraged emphasis.]