Adolphe.  Yes, we are a little better than our reputation—­and a little worse.

Henriette.  That is not a straightforward answer.

Adolphe.  No, it isn’t.  But are you willing to answer me frankly when I ask you:  do you still love Maurice?

Henriette.  I cannot tell until I see him.  But at this moment I feel no longing for him, and it seems as if I could very well live without him.

Adolphe.  It’s likely you could, but I fear you have become chained to his fate—­Sh!  Here he comes.

Henriette.  How everything repeats itself.  The situation is the same, the very words are the same, as when we were expecting you yesterday.

Maurice. [Enters, pale as death, hollow-eyed, unshaven] Here I am, my dear friends, if this be me.  For that last night in a cell changed me into a new sort of being. [Notices Henriette and Adolphe.]

Adolphe.  Sit down and pull yourself together, and then we can talk things over.

Maurice. [To Henriette] Perhaps I am in the way?

Adolphe.  Now, don’t get bitter.

Maurice.  I have grown bad in these twenty-four hours, and suspicious also, so I guess I’ll soon be left to myself.  And who wants to keep company with a murderer?

Henriette.  But you have been cleared of the charge.

Maurice. [Picks up a newspaper] By the police, yes, but not by public opinion.  Here you see the murderer Maurice Gerard, once a playwright, and his mistress, Henriette Mauclerc—­

Henriette.  O my mother and my sisters—­my mother!  Jesus have mercy!

Maurice.  And can you see that I actually look like a murderer?  And then it is suggested that my play was stolen.  So there isn’t a vestige left of the victorious hero from yesterday.  In place of my own, the name of Octave, my enemy, appears on the bill-boards, and he is going to collect my one hundred thousand francs.  O Solon, Solon!  Such is fortune, and such is fame!  You are fortunate, Adolphe, because you have not yet succeeded.

Henriette.  So you don’t know that Adolphe has made a great success in London and carried off the first prize?

Maurice. [Darkly] No, I didn’t know that.  Is it true, Adolphe?

Adolphe.  It is true, but I have returned the prize.

Henriette. [With emphasis] That I didn’t know!  So you are also prevented from accepting any distinctions—­like your friend?

Adolphe.  My friend? [Embarrassed] Oh, yes, yes!

Maurice.  Your success gives me pleasure, but it puts us still farther apart.

Adolphe.  That’s what I expected, and I suppose I’ll be as lonely with my success as you with your adversity.  Think of it—­that people feel hurt by your fortune!  Oh, it’s ghastly to be alive!