DUCHESS. And what I can’t understand is that Suzanne—— MME. DE CÉRAN. Oh, she! DUCHESS. She? Well, you’ll see! They may come now as soon as they wish: everything’s ready. MME. DE CÉRAN. If Roger finds them here together, he might—— DUCHESS. Bah! Wait till you see! Wait until you _see_! MME. DE CÉRAN. But—— DUCHESS. Shh! Didn’t you hear something? MME. DE CÉRAN. Yes! DUCHESS. (_Pushing_ MADAME DE CÉRAN _toward the plant at the right, down-stage_) Just in time!—Come! MME. DE CÉRAN. What, you are going to listen? DUCHESS. (_Hidden_) I should think so! There is nothing else to be done but to listen! There! In that corner we’ll be snug as weasels. If it becomes necessary, we can come out, rest assured of that! Has somebody come in? (JEANNE _enters quietly_.) MME. DE CÉRAN. (_Looking through the branches which hide her_) Yes! DUCHESS. Which of the two? MME. DE CÉRAN. _It is she!_ DUCHESS. Suzanne? MME. DE CÉRAN. No! She’s not in _décolletée_. It’s someone else! DUCHESS. Someone else? Who? MME. DE CÉRAN. I can’t distinguish! JEANNE. But come on, Paul! MME. DE CÉRAN. The little Sub-prefect’s wife! DUCHESS. Again! (PAUL _enters, right, at the back_.) JEANNE. What on earth are you doing to that door? PAUL. (_Still in the corner, busied with something_) Necessity is the mother of invention!—I’m just inventing a little necessity. JEANNE. What? PAUL. That! JEANNE. Eh? (_Nervously_) PAUL. (_Coming in_) A great success! JEANNE. What do you mean? PAUL. That! A little burglar alarm I’ve just installed. Yes, a piece of wood in the door-hinge. By this means, if anyone should come—oh, not any one in love,—that would be hardly likely in this place!—but someone who was trying to take refuge here and avoid the tragedy—there wouldn’t be any danger. He gives the door a push, there is a squeak and we—whht!—by the other door, eh? Isn’t that a clever invention? I tell you, we statesmen—! And now, Madame, since we are at last sheltered from the eyes of the world, I shed the responsibilities of the public man; the private citizen reappears, and is ready for the flight of sentiment too long concealed; I now permit you to call me Paul! JEANNE. Oh, what bliss! You are too good, P A U L! PAUL. I am good because I am at peace; but, kissing me in the corridors, you know—the way you did when you came to unpack my trunk, that—— DUCHESS. (_Aside_) So it was they! PAUL. And in the garden, this evening, too—— DUCHESS. Again! PAUL. Never again, please! It’s entirely too imprudent for this house!—And what a place! Didn’t I tell you? It’s a shame that in order to become a Prefect one has to yawn himself to death in this palace of boredom! MME. DE CÉRAN. Eh? DUCHESS. (_To_ _Madame de Céran_) Listen to that! Listen to that! JEANNE. (_Drawing_ PAUL _down beside her_) Come, dear!