Gertrude
Ah!  That is the way you are going to do it!  Poor child!  He will never
believe you.

Pauline
Oh, I know the domination you exercise over my father; but I have
proofs.

Gertrude
Proofs!  Proofs!

Pauline I went to Ferdinand’s house—­I am very inquisitive—­and I found there your letters, madame; I took from among them those which would convince even the blindness of my father, for they will prove to him—­

Gertrude
What will they prove?

Pauline
Everything!

Gertrude
But this will be, unhappy child, both theft and murder!  For think of
his age.

Pauline And have not you accomplished the murder of my happiness?  Have you not forced me to deny, both to my father and to Ferdinand, my love, my glory, my life?

Gertrude (aside)
This is a mere trick; she knows nothing. (Aloud) This is a clever
stratagem, but I never wrote a single line.  What you say is not true. 
It is impossible.  Where are the letters?

Pauline
They are in my possession.

Gertrude
In your room?

Pauline
They are where you can never reach them.

Gertrude (aside) Madness with its wildest dreams spins through my brain!  My fingers itch for murder.  It is in such moments as this that men kill each other!  How gladly would I kill her!  My God!  Do not forsake me!  Leave me my reason! (Aloud) Wait a moment.

Pauline (aside) My thanks to you, Ferdinand!  I see how much you love me; I have been able to pay back to her all the wrongs she did us a short time ago—­and—­she shall save us from all we feared!

Gertrude (aside) She must have them about her,—­but how can I be sure of that?  Ah!  (Aloud) Pauline!  If you have had those letters for long, you must have known that I was in love with Ferdinand.  You can only lately have received them.

Pauline
They came into my hands this morning.

Gertrude
You have not read them all?

Pauline
Enough to find out that they would ruin you.

Gertrude Pauline, life is just beginning for you. (A knock is heard.) Ferdinand is the first man, young, well educated and distinguished, for he is distinguished, by whom you have been attracted; but there are many others in the world such as he is.  Ferdinand has been in a certain sense under the same roof with you, and you have seen him every day; the first impulses of your heart have therefore directed you to him.  I understand this, and it is quite natural.  Had I been in your place I should doubtless have experienced the same feelings.  But, my dear, you know not the ways either of the world or of society.  And if, like so many other women, you have been deceiving yourself—­for we women, ah, how often are we thus deceived!—­you still can make another choice.  But for me the deed has been done, I have no other choice to make.  Ferdinand is all