GUÉRIN. I pity you, Madame, and I think I understand you better than any one else. I have trouble not unlike your own; perhaps greater, troubles for which there is no consolation. FRANÇOISE. If you understand me, Monsieur, advise me! I need you! GUÉRIN [_startled back into reality_]. Me, help you? I? [_Aside._] No! FRANÇOISE. You spoke of your friendship. The time has come, prove that it is genuine! GUÉRIN. Madame, why did I ever see you? Why did I listen to you? FRANÇOISE. What have you to regret? GUÉRIN. Nothing, Madame, nothing. FRANÇOISE. Explain yourself, Monsieur. You--you make me afraid! GUÉRIN [_trying to calm her suspicions_]. Don't cry like that! There is no reason why you should behave that way! Your husband doesn't love you as he ought, but he does love you. You are jealous, that's what's troubling you. But for that matter, why should he deceive you? That would be too unjust. FRANÇOISE [_excited_]. Too unjust! You are right, Monsieur! No matter how cynical, how blasé a man may be, isn't it his duty, his sacred duty, to say to himself, "I have found a good and true woman in this world of deceptions; she is a woman who adores me, who is only too ready to invent any excuse for me! She bears my name and honors it; no matter what I do, she is always true, of that I am positive. I am always foremost in her thoughts, and I shall be her only love." When a man can say all that, Monsieur, isn't that real, true happiness? GUÉRIN [_sobbing_]. Yes--that is happiness! FRANÇOISE. You are crying! [_A pause._] GUÉRIN. My wife--deceived me! FRANÇOISE. Oh! [_A pause._] Marcel-- GUÉRIN. Your happiness is in no danger! Yesterday I found some old letters, in a desk--old letters--that was all! You weren't his wife at the time. It's ancient history. FRANÇOISE [_aside_]. Who knows? GUÉRIN. Forgive me, Madame; your troubles remind me of my own. When you told of the happiness you still have to give, I couldn't help thinking of what I had lost! FRANÇOISE. So you have come to fight a duel with my husband? GUÉRIN. Madame-- FRANÇOISE. You are going to fight him? Answer me. GUÉRIN. My life is a wreck now--I must-- FRANÇOISE. I don't ask you to forget; Monsieur-- GUÉRIN. Don't you think I have a right? FRANÇOISE. Stop! GUÉRIN. I shall not try to kill him. You love him too much! I couldn't do it now. In striking him I should be injuring you, and you don't deserve to suffer; you have betrayed no one. The happiness you have just taught me to know is as sacred and inviolable as my honor, my unhappiness. I shall not seek revenge. FRANÇOISE [_gratefully_]. Oh, Monsieur. GUÉRIN. I am willing he should live, because he is so dear, so necessary to you. Keep him. If he wants to spoil your happiness, his be the blame! I shall not do it. It would be sacrilege. Good-by, Madame, good-by. [_Guérin goes out, back, Françoise falls into a chair, sobbing._] [_Enter Marcel by the little door._]