Henriette.  Not that he was jealous—­

Maurice.  And why should he be, when he knows that my feelings are tied up elsewhere?

Henriette.  Perhaps he didn’t trust the stability of your feelings.

Maurice.  I can’t understand that, seeing that I am notorious for my constancy.

Adolphe.  Well, it wasn’t that—­

Henriette. [Interrupting him] Perhaps that is because you have not faced the fiery ordeal—­

Adolphe.  Oh, you don’t know—­

Henriette. [Interrupting]—­for the world has not yet beheld a faithful man.

Maurice.  Then it’s going to behold one.

Henriette.  Where?

Maurice.  Here.

(Henriette laughs.)

Adolphe.  Well, that’s going it—­

Henriette. [Interrupting him and directing herself continuously to Maurice] Do you think I ever trust my dear Adolphe more than a month at a time?

Maurice.  I have no right to question your lack of confidence, but
I can guarantee that Adolphe is faithful.

Henriette.  You don’t need to do so—­my tongue is just running away with me, and I have to take back a lot—­not only for fear of feeling less generous than you, but because it is the truth.  It is a bad habit I have of only seeing the ugly side of things, and I keep it up although I know better.  But if I had a chance to be with you two for some time, then your company would make me good once more.  Pardon me, Adolphe! [She puts her hand against his cheek.]

Adolphe.  You are always wrong in your talk and right in your actions.  What you really think—­that I don’t know.

Henriette.  Who does know that kind of thing?

Maurice.  Well, if we had to answer for our thoughts, who could then clear himself?

Henriette.  Do you also have evil thoughts?

Maurice.  Certainly; just as I commit the worst kind of cruelties in my dreams.

Henriette.  Oh, when you are dreaming, of course—­Just think of it--No, I am ashamed of telling—­

Maurice.  Go on, go on!

Henriette.  Last night I dreamt that I was coolly dissecting the muscles on Adolphe’s breast—­you see, I am a sculptor—­and he, with his usual kindness, made no resistance, but helped me instead with the worst places, as he knows more anatomy than I.

Maurice.  Was he dead?

Henriette.  No, he was living.

Maurice.  But that’s horrible!  And didn’t it make you suffer?

Henriette.  Not at all, and that astonished me most, for I am rather sensitive to other people’s sufferings.  Isn’t that so, Adolphe?

Adolphe.  That’s right.  Rather abnormally so, in fact, and not the least when animals are concerned.