I believe you, indeed! He is handsome! [_Confidentially_.] If I tell you all this, it is only because you are a midwife, and a midwife in such affairs as this is like a priest in the confessional. But you, Madame Flache, you, who have been a dancer at the Opera, you must also have had, surely--little love affairs--little intrigues? MME. FLACHE [_evidently flattered, and in a dreamy tone_] Oh, yes, one or two! LA BABIN [_laughs_] And have you never had--this sort of accident? [_Points to the cradle_.] MME. FLACHE No. LA BABIN How did that come? MME. FLACHE [_rises and approaches the mantelpiece_] Probably because I was a midwife. LA BABIN Well, I know one in your profession who has had five. MME. FLACHE [_with contempt_] She evidently did not come from Paris. LA BABIN That's true; she came from Courbevoie. MUSOTTE [_in a feeble voice_] Is no one there? MME. FLACHE She is awakening. There, there! [_Folds up the screen which hides the long steamer-chair_.] MUSOTTE Hasn't he come yet? MME. FLACHE No. MUSOTTE He will arrive too late--my God! My God! MME. FLACHE What an idea! He will come. MUSOTTE And my little darling--my child? MME. FLACHE He is sleeping like an angel. MUSOTTE [_after looking at herself in a hand-mirror_] I must not look like this when he comes. Oh, God! Bring my child--I want to see him. MME. FLACHE But if I show him to you he will wake up, and who knows if he will go to sleep again. MUSOTTE Bring the cradle here. [_A gesture of refusal from_ Mme Flache.] Yes, yes! I insist, [Mme. Flache _and the nurse gently bring the cradle to her_.] Nearer, nearer, so that I can see him well--the darling! My child, my child! And I am going to leave him! Soon I shall disappear into the unknown. Oh. God, what agony! MME. FLACHE Now don't go worrying yourself like that; you are not as ill as you think. I have seen lots worse than you. Come, come! you are going to recover. Take away the cradle, nurse. [_They put the cradle again in its place; then to the nurse_.] That will do, that will do. Watch me. You know very well that it is only I who can quiet it. [_Sits near the cradle, and sings a lullaby while rocking it_.] “A little gray fowl Came into the barn, To lay a big egg For the good boy that sleeps. Go to sleep, go to sleep, My little chicken! Go to sleep, sleep, my chick!” LA BABIN [_stands near the end of the mantelpiece, drinks the sugared water, and slips loaf sugar into her pocket; aside_] I must not forget the main thing. I have just seen in the kitchen the remains of a leg of mutton, to which I should like to go and say a few words. I am breaking in two with hunger just now. MME. FLACHE [_sings softly_] “A little black fowl Came into the room, To lay a big egg For the good boy that sleeps. Sleep, sleep, my little chicken, Sleep, oh, sleep, my chick!” MUSOTTE [_from the long chair, after moaning several times_] Has he gone to sleep again?