Jeanne.  I am glad of it, for you can grow tired of me, but not of her.

Maurice.  Have you no confidence in my feelings toward you?

Jeanne.  I don’t know, but I am afraid of something, afraid of something terrible—­

Maurice.  You are tired out and depressed by your long wait, which once more I ask you to forgive.  What have you to be afraid of?

Jeanne.  The unexpected:  that which you may foresee without having any particular reason to do so.

Maurice.  But I foresee only success, and I have particular reasons for doing so:  the keen instincts of the management and their knowledge of the public, not to speak of their personal acquaintance with the critics.  So now you must be in good spirits--

Jeanne.  I can’t, I can’t!  Do you know, there was an Abbe here a while ago, who talked so beautifully to us.  My faith—­which you haven’t destroyed, but just covered up, as when you put chalk on a window to clean it—­I couldn’t lay hold on it for that reason, but this old man just passed his hand over the chalk, and the light came through, and it was possible again to see that the people within were at home—­To-night I will pray for you at St. Germain.

Maurice.  Now I am getting scared.

Jeanne.  Fear of God is the beginning of wisdom.

Maurice.  God?  What is that?  Who is he?

Jeanne.  It was he who gave joy to your youth and strength to your manhood.  And it is he who will carry us through the terrors that lie ahead of us.

Maurice.  What is lying ahead of us?  What do you know?  Where have you learned of this?  This thing that I don’t know?

Jeanne.  I can’t tell.  I have dreamt nothing, seen nothing, heard nothing.  But during these two dreadful hours I have experienced such an infinity of pain that I am ready for the worst.

Marion.  Now I want to go home, mamma, for I am hungry.

Maurice.  Yes, you’ll go home now, my little darling. [Takes her into his arms.]

Marion. [Shrinking] Oh, you hurt me, papa!

Jeanne.  Yes, we must get home for dinner.  Good-bye then, Maurice. 
And good luck to you!

Maurice. [To Marion] How did I hurt you?  Doesn’t my little girl know that I always want to be nice to her?

Marion.  If you are nice, you’ll come home with us.

Maurice. [To Jeanne] When I hear the child talk like that, you know, I feel as if I ought to do what she says.  But then reason and duty protest—­Good-bye, my dear little girl! [He kisses the child, who puts her arms around his neck.]

Jeanne.  When do we meet again?

Maurice.  We’ll meet tomorrow, dear.  And then we’ll never part again.

Jeanne. [Embraces him] Never, never to part again! [She makes the sign of the cross on his forehead] May God protect you!