Anne. She had traveled all night; she was exhausted. She went to sleep at once.
Valsin. Is she a somnambulist?
Anne [taken aback]. Why?
Valsin [indifferently]. She has just opened the door of her room in order to overhear our conversation. [Waving his hand to the dressing-table mirror, in which he had been gazing.] Observe it, Citizeness Laseyne.
Anne [demoralized]. I do not—I—[Stamping her foot.] How often shall I tell you my name is Balsage!
Valsin [turning to her apologetically]. My wretched memory. Perhaps I might remember better if I saw it written: I beg a glance at your papers. Doubtless you have your certificate of citizenship—
Anne [trembling]. I have papers, certainly.
Valsin. The sight of them—
Anne. I have my passport; you shall see. [With wildly shaking hands she takes from her blouse the passport and the "permit," crumpled together.] It is in proper form—[She is nervously replacing the two papers in her bosom when with a sudden movement he takes them from her. She cries out incoherently, and attempts to recapture them.]
Valsin [extending his left arm to fend her off]. Yes, here you have your passport. And there you have others. [He points to the littered floor under the desk.] Many of them!