ANGÈLE [_very slowly_] Yes. But less than I expected. When I got my father’s letter, I felt as if I should faint. That was two months ago. Since then I have thought of this moment every day. I have wondered so often what my father would say to me and what I should answer that now I no longer feel anything. That is strange, is it not? Strange and sad. [_She sighs_]. After all, M. Courthezon, life is always more commonplace than we expect; simpler, but less beautiful. [_A pause. Sadly_] And besides, I have seen so much. COURTHEZON. You have suffered, too? ANGÈLE. A little. COURTHEZON. Eighteen years, is it not? ANGÈLE. Yes. Eighteen years. COURTHEZON. I hear M. Dupont. I must be going. Au revoir, madame. _Courthezon goes out. A moment later the voice of Dupont is heard without through the half open door, saying: ’Yes, yes; I want you to come with me.’ Then M. and Madame Dupont come in. There is a long pause, and finally Dupont says, with apparent calm_ DUPONT. Good morning Angèle. ANGÈLE. Good morning, father. _They hesitate for a moment as to whether they should kiss one another, then make up their minds to do so. Dupont places a chill salute on either cheek of Angèle. Still silent, Angèle goes up to Madame Dupont and kisses her with the same frigidity._ MME. DUPONT. Good morning, Angèle. ANGÈLE. Good morning, mother. [_They look at one another without a word_]. DUPONT [_overcoming a momentary emotion_] Let us sit down. [_They sit. Then he addresses Angèle in the tone he might have used if she had only gone away the previous evening_] Thank you for coming. ANGÈLE. I came for my sister’s sake. For Caroline. I was very fond of her. [_A pause_]. Is she married? DUPONT. No. She has never wished to marry. ANGÈLE. Yet she is thirty-three. DUPONT [_to his wife_] Thirty-three or thirtyfour? MME. DUPONT. Thirty-three. ANGÈLE. I shall see her? DUPONT. Yes. We will let her know you are here. ANGÈLE. And my half-sister? DUPONT. Julie? ANGÈLE. Yes; Julie. DUPONT. Your half-sister is married. She has made a good match. The son of a banker. The Mairauts. You remember M. Mairaut, the grandfather? ANGÈLE. No. DUPONT. Oh, yes; an old man with a long white beard. ANGÈLE. No. DUPONT. Anyhow, he was the grandfather of M. Antonin Mairaut, Julie’s husband. [_He points to the door_] She is in there. ANGÈLE. There? DUPONT [_speaking rapidly to hide his mingled emotion and embarrassment_] Yes. She has come back with her husband to live with us for a time. Their house at St. Laurent is flooded. You remember the house at St. Laurent? ANGÈLE. Yes.