DIANE

[Outside, laughing.]

All right, Citizen,—­I’ll not forget; though the poor crazed girl is not half as harmful as her saner neighbours.

NANETTE.

Ah!  Here she comes—­Diane Leblanc,—­a ray of sunlight in this prison men call Paris.

DIANE.

[Entering with flowers.]

Ah, Nanette!  Quick!  Water and a vase.  See!

NANETTE.

What—­flowers?

[Brings vase.

DIANE.

Yes, they bloom even in this reign of terror.

[Putting flowers in vase.]

But you see these fragile beauties are sinless, and therefore know no fear.—­Is my father in his room?

NANETTE.

No.  He went away an hour ago.

DIANE.

Gone an hour, and not returned?  That makes me anxious!—­Is Citizen
Kauvar at home?

NANETTE.

Not yet!  He’s been away all night.

DIANE.

Good heavens!—­Nanette—­can anything have happened?

NANETTE.

Yes, what happens every day.  Innocence is slaughtered!

DIANE.

But he—­Citizen Kauvar—?

NANETTE.

Has doubtless fought all night to stop the useless flow of noble blood.

DIANE.

Yes, he is brave, merciful.

NANETTE.

Ah!  He was one of the fiercest champions of Freedom when the people first arose; but now I think he’d give his life to still the tempest he did so much to rouse.

DIANE.

He will return sad and worn; we must do our best to cheer him when he comes.

NANETTE.

One look—­one smile of yours will banish every thought of sorrow from his tired brain.

DIANE.

Hush, Nanette;—­you must not talk like that.

A VOICE.

[Outside.]

Nanette!—­Diane!

NANETTE.

[Startled.]

What’s that?

DIANE.