_Madame P._ (_kisses his forehead_). _Bonjour_, Paul! Where have you been? _Paul_ (_sits on sofa_). Where! In that charming place to which it pleased you to send me. _Madame P._ What can we do, Paul? _Paul._ I have come home on foot in this dreadful heat! _Madame P._ It is charmingly cool in this room. _Paul._ Yes; but what is it like in the winter? All the walls are damp-rotted; the floor is sunk in. _Madame P._ Yes, my dear one; our affairs are in a very bad condition. _Paul._ Your affairs! What affairs have you? There’s papa only half alive; and you, too, have had your day, and finished it. Look at _my_ position! _Madame P._ I know, my dear one. I can understand how hard it is for you! _Paul._ Hard! I should think so! Listen to me, _Maman_. By birth, by education, by the circle in which I move—in fact, by everything—I belong, every inch of me, to the best rank of society. _Madame P._ Oh, yes! _Paul._ And what is wanting? It is shameful, infamous! A fortune! And, indeed, what does it matter that I have no fortune? All the same, I ought to live and do like other people. Am I to go and register myself as an artizan? A cobbler, perhaps! All because I have no fortune! That amounts to an absurdity. _Madame P._ We had a fortune once, Paul. _Paul._ I know you had. And where is it now? I know more than that.... I know that you squandered it. _Madame P._ Ah, Paul! do not blame me! You know that we women are so weak, so confiding. Before your father’s illness we were considered very wealthy people; we had a fine estate in the Simbìrsk country. He knew how to manage all those things. Afterwards, when he was struck down with paralysis, I lived not at all luxuriously, only respectably. _Paul._ How much did Mons. Péché cost you? Confess, _Maman_! _Madame P._ Oh! my dear one, he was indispensable for your education. Then I went abroad twice. But I never ran into any heavy expense. And suddenly I was informed that I had spent all the fortune, that we had nothing left. It is dreadful! In all probability it was our stewards and bailiffs that were to blame for the whole thing. _Paul._ _Canaille!_ _Madame P._ What can we do, my dear one? People are so wicked, so cunning; and you and I are so confiding!