MARCEL. I should think so! Sometimes I imagine that my happiness does not lie altogether in those sparkling eyes of yours and I try to fall in love with another woman; I fall in deeper and deeper for a week or two, and think I am terribly infatuated. But just as I am about to take the fatal leap, I fail: Françoise' luck, you see! At bottom, I'm a commencer; I can't imagine what it is that saves me--and you. Sometimes _she_ has done something to displease me, sometimes a divine word from your lips--and a mere nothing, something quite insignificant! For instance, Wednesday, I missed the train, and came back and had dinner with you. You see, Françoise' luck! FRANÇOISE. Then you're not going out to-day, are you? MARCEL. Nor to-morrow; the whole day is yours. We'll close the door. FRANÇOISE. Aren't you happy? MARCEL [_kissing her behind the ear_]. Hurry up, you lazy child! FRANÇOISE. I'm not pretty, but I have my good points. MARCEL. Not pretty? FRANÇOISE. No, but I deserve to be. [_Madeleine appears at the back._] MADELEINE. I beg your pardon! [_Françoise gives an exclamation of surprise and escapes through the door to the right without looking again at the visitor._] MARCEL [_surprised_]. Madeleine! [_A pause._] MADELEINE [_stylishly dressed. With an air of bravura_]. So this is the way you deceive me! MARCEL [_gayly_]. My dear, if you think that during these three years-- MADELEINE. I beg your pardon for interrupting your little _tête-à-tête_, Marcel, but your door was open, and there was no servant to announce me. MARCEL. You know you are always welcome here. MADELEINE. Your wife is very attractive. MARCEL. Isn't she? Shall I introduce you? MADELEINE. Later--I've come to see _you_. MARCEL. I must confess your visit is a little surprising. MADELEINE. Especially after my sending that note this morning. I thought I should prefer not to trouble you. MARCEL [_uncertain_]. Ah! MADELEINE. Yes. MARCEL. Well? MADELEINE. Well, no! MARCEL. I'm sorry. [_Kissing her hand._] Glad to see you, at any rate. MADELEINE. Same studio as always, eh? MARCEL. You are still as charming as ever. MADELEINE. You are as handsome as ever. MARCEL. I can say no less for you. MADELEINE. I'm only twenty-eight. MARCEL. But your husband is fifty: that keeps you young. How long have you been back? MADELEINE. A week. MARCEL. And I haven't seen Guérin yet! MADELEINE. There's no hurry. MARCEL. What's the matter? MADELEINE. He's a bit worried: you know how jealous he is! Well, yesterday, when I was out, he went through all my private papers-- MARCEL. Naturally he came across some letters. MADELEINE. _The_ letters, my dear! MARCEL. Mine? MADELEINE. Yes. [_Gesture from Marcel._] Old letters. MARCEL. You kept them? MADELEINE. From a celebrity? Of course! MARCEL. The devil! MADELEINE. Ungrateful! MARCEL. I beg your pardon.