LUCY. (_Coldly_) There is no question about good or bad, Madame, it is merely a question of the existence of the species. LADIES. (_Protesting_) Oh! DUCHESS. (_Aside_) She’s prosaic enough about it! MME. DE LOUDAN. (_Indignantly_) Why, you’re stripping love of all its romance! LUCY. Hunter and Darwin—— MME. DE LOUDAN. No one better than I knows the weaknesses of the flesh. Matter dominates and masters us! I know it, I feel it! But leave us at least the psychic refuge of pure ecstasy! BELLAC. But, Marquise—— MME. DE LOUDAN. Be quiet, you’re a villain! I will not deny my god; that would be sacrilege. I’m very angry with you! DUCHESS. (_Aside_) Little fool! BELLAC. I hope we shall be reconciled, after you read my book. MME. DE LOUDAN. But when will that be? The entire world is waiting for that book! And you don’t say a word about it! You won’t even tell us the title! LADIES. Tell us the title! At least the title! MME. ARRIÉGO. Lucy, you make him tell us. LUCY. Well, what is the title? BELLAC. (_To_ LUCY, _after a moment’s hesitation_) “Miscellanies.” MME. DE LOUDAN. Oh, how lovely! But when does it appear? BELLAC. I am hurrying it through the press, and I count on its helping me to the honor to which I aspire. MME. DE CÉRAN. To which you aspire? MME. ARRIÉGO. What more can he wish? MME. DE LOUDAN. What more can the child of Fortune wish? BELLAC. Poor Revel is on his last legs, you know. In the event of anything happening to him, I have announced myself as candidate for the position of director of the New School. DUCHESS. (_To_ MME. DE CÉRAN) Number three! BELLAC. Ladies, if Revel should die—which God forbid!—I recommend myself to your good graces, and your influence. LADIES. You may count on us, Bellac! BELLAC. (_Approaching the_ DUCHESS) And you, Duchess, may I hope——? DUCHESS. You mustn’t ask me anything before dinner. The weakness of the flesh “dominates me,” as Madame de Loudan says. (_The clock strikes_) There, you have only fifteen minutes! Get dressed at once, and we’ll talk the matter over at table. MME. DE CÉRAN. At table? But M. Toulonnier hasn’t arrived yet, Duchess. DUCHESS. That makes no difference to me. We dine sharp at six, whether he is here or not. MME. DE CÉRAN. Dine without him, a General Secretary? DUCHESS. Oh, under the Republic! (_Enter_ SUZANNE, _with her notebooks under her arm; she puts them on the table, right_.) MME. DE CÉRAN. I am going to meet him. (_To_ BELLAC) My dear Professor, you will be shown to your room. (_She rings and, a moment later, enter_ FRANCOIS) BELLAC. Pray don’t trouble, Countess, I have the good fortune to know the way. (_Aside to_ LUCY) Did you get my letter? LUCY. Yes, but—— (BELLAC _makes a sign for her to be silent, bows and goes out, right_.) MME. DE LOUDAN. And now, ladies, let us adjourn and make ourselves beautiful! MME. ARRIÉGO. Come! MME. DE CÉRAN. Come with me, Lucy. LUCY. With pleasure, Madame!