JEANNE. But the Deputy is more active! MME. DE CÉRAN. Really, my dear Raymond, you are very fortunate. (_Pressing_ JEANNE’S _hand_) And so am I! (_To_ JEANNE) Good—I’ll introduce you to both! PAUL. (_Following_ JEANNE, _who follows_ MME. DE CÉRAN) Angel! JEANNE. Aren’t we going where it’s dark pretty soon? PAUL. Yes, my angel, but wait until the rest are gone! I’ll tell you: while the tragedy is being read! SERVANT. (_Announcing_) Madame la baronne de Boines—Monsieur Melchior de Boines! (_Enter_ MME. DE BOINES _and_ MELCHIOR.) BARONESS. (_To_ MADAME DE CÉRAN, _who is about to receive her_) Ah, my dear, am I in time? MME. DE CÉRAN. You are too late for Science, too early for Poetry! I am waiting for my poet. BARONESS. Who is he? MME. DE CÉRAN. An unknown. BARONESS. Young? MME. DE CÉRAN. I know nothing whatsoever about him, but I am assured that this is his first work. Gaiac is bringing him—you know Gaiac, of the _Conservateur_? They should have been here at nine. I can’t imagine what keeps them. BARONESS. I shall profit by the circumstance, for I came to see neither scholar nor poet. I came to see _him_, my dear: Bellac! Think of it, I’ve never met him! He is so attractive, they tell me! Princess Okolitch is quite mad about him, you know. Where is he? Oh, show him to me, Countess! MME. DE CÉRAN. I was just looking for him, and I—(_Seeing_ BELLAC _enter with_ SUZANNE) There! BARONESS. Is that he, coming in with Mlle. de Villiers? MME. DE CÉRAN. (_Astonished_) Yes! BARONESS. How lovely he is, dear! Isn’t he handsome! And you let him go about with that young girl! MME. DE CÉRAN. (_Aside—looking at_ SUZANNE _and_ BELLAC) That’s strange—— MELCHIOR. And may I shake hands with Roger? MME. DE CÉRAN. I doubt if you can at this moment. He must be hard at work. (_Enter the_ DUCHESS _and_ ROGER. _Aside, looking at these latter_) What’s this—and with the Duchess? ROGER. (_To the_ DUCHESS, _greatly agitated_) Well, did you hear, Aunt? DUCHESS. Yes, but I saw nothing. ROGER. It was certainly a kiss, that time! DUCHESS. And a good smack! Who is there here who would kiss like that? ROGER. Who, indeed? DUCHESS. (_Seeing_ MADAME DE CÉRAN, _as she approaches them_) Your mother! MME. DE CÉRAN. How is this, Roger, aren’t you supposed to be at work? ROGER. No, Mother, I—— MME. DE CÉRAN. Well, well, what about your _Tumuli_? ROGER. I have plenty of time: I can work on it to-night, and later in the week. MME. DE CÉRAN. The idea! The Minister is waiting! ROGER. Let him wait, Mother! (_He goes away_) MME. DE CÉRAN. (_Stupefied_) Duchess, what does this mean? DUCHESS. Tell me, isn’t someone going to read us some sort of nonsense this evening? Some tragedy——? MME. DE CÉRAN. Yes. DUCHESS. Your reading is to be in the next room, isn’t it? Get the people out of here, will you? I shall need this room at once. MME. DE CÉRAN. Why? DUCHESS. I’ll tell you during the tragedy.