Jeanne.  Your judgment in this matter, Adolphe, has great value to me, and I believe what you say.  It means that I cannot hold anybody but myself responsible for what has happened.  It is my carelessness that is now being punished. [She begins to cry.]

Abbe.  Don’t accuse yourself unjustly!  I know you, and the serious spirit in which you have regarded your motherhood.  That your assumption of this responsibility had not been sanctioned by religion and the civil law was not your fault.  No, we are here facing something quite different.

Adolphe.  What then?

Abbe.  Who can tell?

(Henriette enters, dressed in travelling suit.)

Adolphe. [Rises with an air of determination and goes to meet
Henriette] You here?

Henriette.  Yes, where is Maurice?

Adolphe.  Do you know—­or don’t you?

Henriette.  I know everything.  Excuse me, Madame Catherine, but I was ready to start and absolutely had to step in here a moment. [To Adolphe] Who is that woman?—­Oh!

(Henriette and Jeanne stare at each other.)

(Emile appears in the kitchen door.)

Henriette. [To Jeanne] I ought to say something, but it matters very little, for anything I can say must sound like an insult or a mockery.  But if I ask you simply to believe that I share your deep sorrow as much as anybody standing closer to you, then you must not turn away from me.  You mustn’t, for I deserve your pity if not your forbearance. [Holds out her hand.]

Jeanne. [Looks hard at her] I believe you now—­and in the next moment I don’t. [Takes HENRIETTE’S hand.]

Henriette. [Kisses JEANNE’S hand] Thank you!

Jeanne. [Drawing back her hand] Oh, don’t!  I don’t deserve it!  I don’t deserve it!

Abbe.  Pardon me, but while we are gathered here and peace seems to prevail temporarily at least, won’t you, Mademoiselle Henriette, shed some light into all the uncertainty and darkness surrounding the main point of accusation?  I ask you, as a friend among friends, to tell us what you meant with all that talk about killing, and crime, and the Place de Roquette.  That your words had no connection with the death of the child, we have reason to believe, but it would give us added assurance to hear what you were really talking about.  Won’t you tell us?

Henriette. [After a pause] That I cannot tell!  No, I cannot!

Adolphe.  Henriette, do tell!  Give us the word that will relieve us all.

Henriette.  I cannot!  Don’t ask me!

Abbe.  This is not the work of man!

Henriette.  Oh, that this moment had to come!  And in this manner! [To Jeanne] Madame, I swear that I am not guilty of your child’s death.  Is that enough?