SUZANNE. Then why do you write to her?—Oh, I know; you’ve written twenty-seven letters to her—I’ve counted them, twenty-seven! ROGER. Those were nothing but—— SUZANNE. And one more this morning. Were they all “nothing buts”? What was in that letter that came this morning? ROGER. I merely wrote that I should arrive on Thursday. SUZANNE. That you would arrive on Thursday? Was that all, really? But why didn’t you write to me? Then I’d have been the first to see you. ROGER. But haven’t I written to you—often? SUZANNE. Often? Ten times. And then nothing but little insignificant notes at the bottom of someone else’s letter—the kind you’d write to a baby. I’m not a baby any longer: I’ve been thinking a lot these last six months; I’ve learned a heap of things. ROGER. What have you learned? (SUZANNE _leans against his shoulder and cries_) Why, Suzanne, what’s wrong? SUZANNE. (_Wiping her eyes and trying to laugh_) And then I’ve worked—! Oh, how I worked! Piano, that horrid piano—I’m up to Schumann now, that’s proper enough, isn’t it? ROGER. Oh! SUZANNE. Shall I play you something of his? ROGER. Not now, later! SUZANNE. All right.—And I’ve learned so much! ROGER. You are attending Professor Bellac’s lectures, aren’t you? So he’s taken my place! SUZANNE. Yes, he’s been so nice! I love him, too. ROGER. Indeed! SUZANNE. Are you jealous of him? ROGER. I? SUZANNE. Tell me if you are; I’ll understand. I’m so jealous! But why should _you_ be? You’re my father, aren’t you? ROGER. Oh, your father—— SUZANNE. What’s wrong? Be nice to me, the way you used to! ROGER. The way I used to? Oh, no! SUZANNE. Yes, the way you used to! (_She attempts to embrace him_) ROGER. No, no, no, Suzanne, don’t do that! SUZANNE. Why not? ROGER. Come now, that’s enough! Run away now! (_Sits on the sofa_) SUZANNE. I like you that way! ROGER. Be a little bit reasonable. SUZANNE. Oh, we’ve had enough reasonableness for to-day. (_She ruffles his hair, laughing_) ROGER. Run away, now! A big girl like you! SUZANNE. (_Jealously_) If I were only Lucy—— ROGER. Now, now! Please, dear! SUZANNE. There, you said “dear.” Forfeit! (_She sits on his knee and kisses him_) ROGER. Again! SUZANNE. All right, again! (_She kisses him_) ROGER. (_Repulsing her as he rises_) This is too much! SUZANNE. I’m an awful tease, am I not? Well, I’ll get my notebooks for you: they’ll calm us down a little. (_She stops in the doorway and looks at him_) Oh, here are the ladies and M. Bellac! What! Lucy in an evening gown? Wait one moment! (_She runs out_) ROGER. (_Agitated_) This is decidedly too much! (_Enter the_ DUCHESS.) DUCHESS. Well? ROGER. Well—— DUCHESS. How excited you look! ROGER. You see, she was so affectionate—too affectionate! DUCHESS. Yes, I advise you to complain! See what I have found! (_She takes a mounted photograph from between the leaves of_ SUZANNE’S _notebook_) ROGER. A picture—— DUCHESS. Of the Professor, yes——