CHRISTINE.  Oh, she has her time now, and then she is always a little queer like that.  But are you going to dance with me now?

JEAN.  You are not mad at me because I disappointed you?

CHRISTINE.  No!—­Not for a little thing like that, you know!  And also, I know my place—­

JEAN. [Putting his arm around her waist] You are a, sensible girl, Christine, and I think you’ll make a good wife—­

JULIA. [Enters and is unpleasantly surprised; speaks with forced gayety] Yes, you are a fine partner—­running away from your lady!

JEAN.  On the contrary, Miss Julia.  I have, as you see, looked up the one I deserted.

JULIA. [Changing tone] Do you know, there is nobody that dances like you!—­But why do you wear your livery on an evening like this?  Take it off at once!

JEAN.  Then I must ask you to step outside for a moment, as my black coat is hanging right here. [Points toward the right and goes in that direction.]

JULIA.  Are you bashful on my account?  Just to change a coat?  Why don’t you go into your own room and come back again?  Or, you can stay right here, and I’ll turn my back on you.

JEAN.  With your permission, Miss Julia. [Goes further over to the right; one of his arms can be seen as he changes his coat.]

JULIA [To CHRISTINE] Are you and Jean engaged, that he’s so familiar with you?

CHRISTINE.  Engaged?  Well, in a way.  We call it that.

JULIA.  Call it?

CHRISTINE.  Well, Miss Julia, you have had a fellow of your own, and—­

JULIA.  We were really engaged—­

CHRISTINE.  But it didn’t come to anything just the same—­

[JEAN enters, dressed in black frock coat and black derby.]

JULIA. Tres gentil, Monsieur Jean!  Tres gentil!

JEAN. Vous voulez plaisanter, Madame!

JULIA. Et vous voulez parler francais! Where did you learn it?

JEAN.  In Switzerland, while I worked as sommelier in one of the big hotels at Lucerne.

JULIA.  But you look like a real gentleman in your frock coat! 
Charming! [Sits down at the table.]

JEAN.  Oh, you flatter me.

JULIA. [Offended] Flatter—­you!

JEAN.  My natural modesty does not allow me to believe that you could be paying genuine compliments to one like me, and so I dare to assume that you are exaggerating, or, as we call it, flattering.

JULIA.  Where did you learn to use your words like that?  You must have been to the theatre a great deal?

JEAN.  That, too.  I have been to a lot of places.

JULIA.  But you were born in this neighbourhood?

JEAN.  My father was a cotter on the county attorney’s property right by here, and I can recall seeing you as a child, although you, of course, didn’t notice me.

JULIA.  No, really!

JEAN.  Yes, and I remember one time in particular—­but of that I can’t speak.