JEANNE. And the applause was great. (_Aside_) What shall I do? DUCHESS. Ha! Ha! What was the beautiful line? JEANNE. “Honor is like a god, a god which—” I’m afraid I misquote it, and spoil the effect. DUCHESS. Keep it, my child, keep it! And now you’re running away like this in spite of the beautiful line? JEANNE. I very much regret having to leave. (_Aside_) What shall I say? (_Brightening_) Oh!—it was either that I was so uncomfortable where I was sitting, or because it was so warm—I don’t feel very well! DUCHESS. Ah! JEANNE. My eyes are—I can’t see straight—I have a headache—— MME. DE CÉRAN, DUCHESS, ROGER. (_Rising_) A headache?! JEANNE. (_Alarmed—aside_) What’s the matter with them? DUCHESS. (_After a short pause_) That’s not surprising: there is an epidemic of headaches. JEANNE. You have one too? DUCHESS. I? No! One doesn’t have them at my age! You must do something for it, my child. JEANNE. I’m going to take a little walk. You’ll excuse me, won’t you? DUCHESS. Of course; by all means! JEANNE. (_Holding her head between her hands, and going toward the door_) Oh, how it aches! Ah! (_Aside_) Paul will find an excuse to get away! (_She goes out through the door leading to the garden_) DUCHESS. (_To_ ROGER) Do you think so? Do you think so? ROGER. Oh, Aunt, it’s only a coincidence! DUCHESS. Possibly; you know how easily one may be mistaken, and one must never—(_The door of the drawing-room opens_) Ahh, _this_ time! VOICE OF THE POET. (_Heard through the partially opened door as before_) “And though there were a hundred, nay a thousand——” DUCHESS. Euripides is still at it! VOICE OF THE POET. “Unarmed, unaided, would I brave their threats, And make the cowards own their cowardice!” (LUCY _appears_.) MME. DE CÉRAN _and_ ROGER. Lucy! (LUCY _goes to the door leading into the garden_.) DUCHESS. What, Lucy! Why did you leave the reading? LUCY. (_Stopping_) I beg your pardon; I didn’t see you! DUCHESS. And yet they say there was a beautiful line: “Honor is like a god——” LUCY. (_Starting to go_) “Like a god which——” DUCHESS. Yes, that’s the one. (_The clock strikes ten._ LUCY _is now at the door_) And in spite of that, you are determined to go? LUCY. Yes, I want a breath of fresh air: I have a headache. (_She goes out_) DUCHESS, ROGER, _and_ MME. DE CÈRAN. (_Sitting down_) Oh! DUCHESS. Well, well! This is getting interesting! MME. DE CÉRAN. Another coincidence! DUCHESS. Another? No, not this time! Don’t you think so? Then all of them are—! Except Suzanne’s case! Come, now, there’s something in the air. She will not come! I’m willing to wager she won’t come. (_The drawing-room door opens suddenly, and through it is heard a voice in the throes of tragic agony_) There she is! (_Enter_ SUZANNE _hastily, as though looking for someone_.) MME. DE CÉRAN. (_Rising_) You are leaving the reading, Mademoiselle! SUZANNE. (_Impatiently_) Yes, cousin!