ADOLPHE.  You are crazy, man.

MAURICE.  Not I, but Henriette, is crazy.  She suspects me and has threatened to report me.

ADOLPHE.  Henriette was here a while ago, and she used the self-same words as you.  Both of you are crazy, for it has been proved by a second autopsy that the child died from a well-known disease, the name of which I have forgotten.

MAURICE.  It isn’t true!

ADOLPHE.  That’s what she said also.  But the official report is printed in the paper.

MAURICE.  A report?  Then they have made it up!

ADOLPHE.  And that’s also what she said.  The two of you are suffering from the same mental trouble.  But with her I got far enough to make her realise her own condition.

MAURICE.  Where did she go?

ADOLPHE.  She went far away from here to begin a new life.

MAURICE.  Hm, hm!—­Did you go to the funeral?

ADOLPHE.  I did.

MAURICE.  Well?

ADOLPHE.  Well, Jeanne seemed resigned and didn’t have a hard word to say about you.

MAURICE.  She is a good woman.

ADOLPHE.  Why did you desert her then?

MAURICE.  Because I was crazy—­blown up with pride especially—­and then we had been drinking champagne—­

ADOLPHE.  Can you understand now why Jeanne wept when you drank champagne?

MAURICE.  Yes, I understand now—­And for that reason I have already written to her and asked her to forgive me—­Do you think she will forgive me?

ADOLPHE.  I think so, for it’s not like her to hate anybody.

MAURICE.  Do you think she will forgive me completely, so that she will come back to me?

ADOLPHE.  Well, I don’t know about that.  You have shown yourself so poor in keeping faith that it is doubtful whether she will trust her fate to you any longer.

MAURICE.  But I can feel that her fondness for me has not ceased, and I know she will come back to me.

ADOLPHE.  How can you know that?  How can you believe it?  Didn’t you even suspect her and that decent brother of hers of having sent the police after Henriette out of revenge?

MAURICE.  But I don’t believe it any longer—­that is to say, I guess that fellow Emile is a pretty slick customer.

MME. CATHERINE.  Now look here!  What are you saying of Monsieur Emile?  Of course, he is nothing but a workman, but if everybody kept as straight as he—­There is no flaw in him, but a lot of sense and tact.

EMILE. [Enters] Monsieur Gerard?

MAURICE.  That’s me.

EMILE.  Pardon me, but I have something to say to you in private.

MAURICE.  Go right on.  We are all friends here.

(The ABBE enters and sits down.)

EMILE. [With a glance at the ABBE] Perhaps after—­

MAURICE.  Never mind.  The Abbe is also a friend, although he and I differ.

EMILE.  You know who I am, Monsieur Gerard?  My sister has asked me to give you this package as an answer to your letter.