JEAN.  We must sleep on nine midsummer flowers to-night, Miss Julia—–­ then our dreams will come true.

[They turn around in the doorway, and JEAN puts one hand up to his eyes.]

JULIA.  Let me see what you have got in your eye.

JEAN.  Oh, nothing—­just some dirt—­it will soon be gone.

JULIA.  It was my sleeve that rubbed against it.  Sit down and let me help you. [Takes him by the arm and makes him sit down; takes hold of his head and bends it backwards; tries to get out the dirt with a corner of her handkerchief] Sit still now, absolutely still! [Slaps him on the hand] Well, can’t you do as I say?  I think you are shaking—–­a big, strong fellow like you! [Feels his biceps] And with such arms!

JEAN. [Ominously] Miss Julia!

JULIA.  Yes, Monsieur Jean.

JEAN. Attention!  Je ne suis qu’un homme.

JULIA.  Can’t you sit still!—­There now!  Now it’s gone.  Kiss my hand now, and thank me.

JEAN. [Rising] Miss Julia, listen to me.  Christine has gone to bed now—­Won’t you listen to me?

JULIA.  Kiss my hand first.

JEAN.  Listen to me!

JULIA.  Kiss my hand first!

JEAN.  All right, but blame nobody but yourself!

JULIA.  For what?

JEAN.  For what?  Are you still a mere child at twenty-five?  Don’t you know that it is dangerous to play with fire?

JULIA.  Not for me.  I am insured.

JEAN. [Boldly] No, you are not.  And even if you were, there are inflammable surroundings to be counted with.

JULIA.  That’s you, I suppose?

JEAN.  Yes.  Not because I am I, but because I am a young man—­

JULIA.  Of handsome appearance—­what an incredible conceit!  A Don
Juan, perhaps.  Or a Joseph?  On my soul, I think you are a Joseph!

JEAN.  Do you?

JULIA.  I fear it almost.

[JEAN goes boldly up to her and takes her around the waist in order to kiss her.]

JULIA. [Gives him a cuff on the ear] Shame!

JEAN.  Was that in play or in earnest?

JULIA.  In earnest.

JEAN.  Then you were in earnest a moment ago also.  Your playing is too serious, and that’s the dangerous thing about it.  Now I am tired of playing, and I ask to be excused in order to resume my work.  The count wants his boots to be ready for him, and it is after midnight already.

JULIA.  Put away the boots.

JEAN.  No, it’s my work, which I am bound to do.  But I have not undertaken to be your playmate.  It’s something I can never become—–­ I hold myself too good for it.

JULIA.  You’re proud!

JEAN.  In some ways, and not in others.

JULIA.  Have you ever been in love?

JEAN.  We don’t use that word.  But I have been fond of a lot of girls, and once I was taken sick because I couldn’t have the one I wanted:  sick, you know, like those princes in the Arabian Nights who cannot eat or drink for sheer love.