MME. POUCHELET. Oh, please don’t trouble. Please. No; you really must not. We can have something when we get home. [_Going_] Our things are here, I think. JULIE. Let me help you. ANTONIN. I will come and put you on your way. POUCHELET [_declining_] Thank you, monsieur. We know the way. _M. and Madame Pouchelet bow formally and coldly to each in turn and go out: Julie goes with them. There is a silence. Antonin paces the room irritably. Madame Mairaut grins._ DUPONT [_to his wife, in a low voice, after glancing at the others_] I think it’s time we went to bed. MME. DUPONT. Very well, dear. _Formal bows, Monsieur, Madame, are exchanged. The Duponts go out and Julie returns._ ANTONIN [_his arms folded, sternly_] So there was no more beer. JULIE. No, dear. ANTONIN. It’s intolerable. JULIE. Here are the three bottles. You told me to buy three bottles. There they are. ANTONIN. Nonsense. You make me ridiculous. I press Madame Pouchelet to have another glass and there isn’t one. It’s preposterous. JULIE. It is not my fault. ANTONIN. I suppose you think it’s mine. MME. MAIRAUT. Evidently. ANTONIN. Besides, I have no recollection of saying three bottles. JULIE. I assure you. ANTONIN. I have no recollection whatever of it. On the contrary, I am certain I said buy four or five. JULIE. No. Three. ANTONIN. You make me look like a fool. These people will think I was laughing at them. You make me look like a fool, and that is a thing I won’t have. CAROLINE. M. Antonin, I was there when you spoke to Julie. You did say three bottles. ANTONIN. My dear Caroline, I love you very much, but I can’t help pointing out to you that the best possible way to aggravate a dispute between husband and wife is to interfere in it either on one side or on the other. If you don’t realize that already, you may take it from me. MME. MAIRAUT. If you spoke less, mademoiselle, it would certainly be better for all parties. CAROLINE. Why? What have I said? ANTONIN. Among other things you might refrain from proclaiming on the housetops that you are reduced to working for your living. CAROLINE. There is nothing dishonorable in that. MME. MAIRAUT. Very likely. But one doesn’t talk about it. ANTONIN. I thought every moment you were going to ask M. Pouchelet for an order. Not very pleasant for us, that. CAROLINE. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. [_She begins to cry_]. But I’m so unfortunate. I always make mistakes. ANTONIN [_irritably_] Oh, for goodness sake, my dear Caroline, don’t begin to cry. There’s no earthly good in that. MME. MAIRAUT. There’s really nothing to cry about. JULIE [_going to her_] Caroline. Don’t cry, dear. [_She takes her away_]. MME. MAIRAUT. Now, my son, we are going to say good-night. ANTONIN. Good-night. [_He kisses her absently_]. MME. MAIRAUT. You’re not angry with us, dear, are you? You wanted to marry Julie, you know. Good-night.