FRANcOISE. Perhaps.

MARCEL [_unthinkingly_]. You know, Francoise, one can never be sure of one's self.

FRANcOISE. Of course!

MARCEL. No one can say, "I love to-day, and I shall love to-morrow." You or any one else.

FRANcOISE [_offended_]. I?

MARCEL. How can you tell, whether in fifteen years--?

FRANcOISE. Oh, I'm a little child--I'm different from the others: I shall always love the same man all his life. But go on, you were saying?

MARCEL. Nothing. I want you to be happy, in spite of everything, no matter what may happen--no matter what I may do.

FRANcOISE. Even if you should deceive me?

MARCEL [_tenderly_]. Deceive you? Never! I care nothing about other women! You are my happiness--not a mere pastime.

FRANcOISE. Alas!

MARCEL. Why alas?

FRANcOISE. Because it is easier to do without happiness than pleasure.

MARCEL [_tenderly_]. Oh, you are all that is highest and best in my life. I prefer you to everything else! Let a woman come between us, and she shall have me to deal with! Call it selfishness, if you will, or egotism--but your peace of mind is an absolute necessity to me!

FRANcOISE. You need not prepare me for the future, you bad boy: I resigned myself to "possibilities" some time ago. I'm inexperienced and young in years, but I'm older than you.

MARCEL. Shall I tell you something? I never deserved you!

FRANcOISE. That's true.

MARCEL. When I think how happy you might have made some good and worthy man, and that--

FRANcOISE. Who then would have made me happy?

MARCEL. You are not happy now.

FRANcOISE. I didn't marry for happiness; I married in order to have you.

MARCEL. I'm a fool! It would be nice, wouldn't it, if I were an unfaithful husband!

FRANcOISE. I'm sure you will never be that.

MARCEL. Do you really think so?

FRANcOISE. I am positive. What would be the use in deceiving me? I should be so unhappy, and you wouldn't be a bit happier.

MARCEL. You are right.

FRANcOISE. No, you will not deceive me. To begin with, I have great luck.

MARCEL [_gayly_]. Of course, you have; you don't know how much!

FRANcOISE [_coquettishly_]. Tell me!

MARCEL. What a child you are!

MARCEL. I should think so! Sometimes I imagine that my happiness does not lie altogether in those sparkling eyes of yours and I try to fall in love with another woman; I fall in deeper and deeper for a week or two, and think I am terribly infatuated. But just as I am about to take the fatal leap, I fail: Francoise' luck, you see! At bottom, I'm a commencer; I can't imagine what it is that saves me--and you. Sometimes _she_ has done something to displease me, sometimes a divine word from your lips--and a mere nothing, something quite insignificant! For instance, Wednesday, I missed the train, and came back and had dinner with you. You see, Francoise' luck!

FRANcOISE. Then you're not going out to-day, are you?

MARCEL. Nor to-morrow; the whole day is yours. We'll close the door.

FRANcOISE. Aren't you happy?

MARCEL [_kissing her behind the ear_]. Hurry up, you lazy child!

FRANcOISE. I'm not pretty, but I have my good points.

MARCEL. Not pretty?

FRANcOISE. No, but I deserve to be.

[_Madeleine appears at the back._]

MADELEINE. I beg your pardon!

[_Francoise gives an exclamation of surprise and escapes through the door to the right without looking again at the visitor._]

MARCEL [_surprised_]. Madeleine!

[_A pause._]

MADELEINE [_stylishly dressed. With an air of bravura_]. So this is the way you deceive me!

MARCEL [_gayly_]. My dear, if you think that during these three years--

MADELEINE. I beg your pardon for interrupting your little _tete-a-tete_, Marcel, but your door was open, and there was no servant to announce me.

MARCEL. You know you are always welcome here.

MADELEINE. Your wife is very attractive.

MARCEL. Isn't she? Shall I introduce you?

MADELEINE. Later--I've come to see _you_.