MARION.
Who should it be? Oh, leave me here—
Here at your feet! It is the place I love!
Your hands, your dear loved hands, give them—your hands!
Oh, they are wounded! Those harsh chains did that.
The wretched creatures! But I'm here—you know—
Oh, it is terrible! [She weeps; her sobs are audible.
DIDIER.
Why do you weep?
MARION.
Why? Didier, I'm not weeping! No, I laugh!
[She laughs.
[She falls again at Didier's feet and sobs.
DIDIER.
Madame—