LUCY. (_To_ SAINT-RÉAULT) Pardon my boldness, Monsieur, but in your enumeration of the Sacred Books, it seemed to me that you omitted something. SAINT RÉAULT. (_Piqued_) Ah, you think so, Mademoiselle? LUCY. I did not hear you mention either the _Mahabharata_ or the _Ramayana_. SAINT RÉAULT. But those are not the Sacred Books, they are merely poems whose ancient origin rendered them objects of veneration to the Hindoos. They are works of literature, merely. LUCY. But nevertheless, the Academy of Calcutta—— SAINT-RÉAULT. I merely give you the opinion of the Brahmins! You have another of your own? SUZANNE. (_Loudly_) Monsieur Bellac! BELLAC. Mademoiselle? SUZANNE. Give me your arm; let’s take a little walk. I want the air! BELLAC. But, Mademoiselle—— SUZANNE. Don’t you wish to? BELLAC. But just at this time——? SUZANNE. Do come! (_She almost drags him out_) ROGER. (_To the_ DUCHESS) She’s going out with him! DUCHESS. Follow them!—Wait, I’ll go with you—I need a breath of air myself; he’s put me to sleep with his Brahmins, the old fakir! (_They go out_) TOULONNIER. (_To_ SAINT-RÉAULT) Very learned and full of new ideas—(_In an undertone_) I caught that hint of yours, my dear Baron. There was really no need. We are all on your side. (_They shake hands_) MME. DE CÉRAN. (_To_ SAINT-RÉAULT) I beg your pardon! (_Aside to_ TOULONNIER) You won’t forget my boy? TOULONNIER. I shall no more forget my promise than—I will yours. MME. DE CÉRAN. You understand, you will receive your six votes in the Senate. You understand also that on the publication of his report—— TOULONNIER. You are well aware, Countess, that we are all on your side. PAUL. (_To_ JEANNE, _as they come in from the garden_) That time they _did_ see us! JEANNE. It was too dark to see anything under the trees. PAUL. We were almost caught before dinner. Twice would be too much! I don’t want to risk it. JEANNE. Didn’t you promise to kiss me every time we were in the dark? Yes or no? PAUL. (_Excitedly_) Do you want to be the wife of a Prefect? Yes or no? JEANNE. (_Equally excited_) Yes, but meanwhile I’m not going to be his widow! (MADAME DE CÉRAN _goes to them_.) PAUL. (_Aside to_ JEANNE) The Countess! (_Aloud_) Really, Jeanne, you prefer the _Bhagavata_? JEANNE. Oh, the _Bhagavata_, my dear—— MME. DE CÉRAN. Did you understand any of that mass of erudition, Madame? Poor Saint-Réault seemed particularly wordy and obscure this evening! PAUL. (_Aside_) The jealous rival! JEANNE. But towards the end, Countess, he was clear enough. MME. DE CÉRAN. Ah, yes, about his candidacy; you understand? JEANNE. Well, after all, if faith requires science to support it, has not science some need of faith?—as Monsieur de Maistre has said. MME. DE CÉRAN. Very good indeed! I must introduce you to a gentleman who will be very useful to you: General de Briais, the Senator. JEANNE. And how about the Deputy, Countess? MME. DE CÉRAN. Oh, the Senator is more powerful!