MME. DUPONT. What did you do then? DUPONT. I wish you had been there. You would have laughed. MME. DUPONT. Well? DUPONT. I think I managed pretty well, though I say it who shouldn’t. If you had seen the long faces they pulled. Especially Mother Mairaut. [_He bursts out laughing_]. I should have liked a photograph of them. It would have cheered me in moments of depression. Ha! Ha! Ha! MME. DUPONT [_smiling_] Tell me about it. DUPONT. Well—I’d have given anything for a photograph. I said to them [_solemnly_] ‘Dear monsieur and dear madame, I admit that I promised to pay you to-day twentyfive thousand francs. Only I am not in a position to pay them.’ Explosion! Rage! Dignified reproaches! Insults! Smiling, I let the storm to pass by. Mother Mairaut sat there, her husband here, I here. All the time they were speaking I looked at them like this [_grins_]. As soon as they had finished I took up the tale again. ‘I do not deny the debt,’ said I, ’only I ask to be allowed to postpone the payment. And this time I am ready to sign an undertaking, a binding undertaking, to pay.’ Complete change of front! Smiles. Apologies. Oh, they were devilish civil. Called me a man of honor, etc., etc. I let them run on, still smiling. Then, in the midst of an almost religious silence, I sat down at my desk, I took pen and paper, I wrote, I blotted, so, taking my time about it. Madame Mairaut positively slobbered with delight. I tell you she slobbered. I handed her the paper. On it was written simply: ‘Good for the sum of twentyfive thousand francs to be paid out of the money to be left by Uncle Maréchal.’ Ha! Ha! Ha! MME. DUPONT [_laughing_] Splendid! DUPONT. Funny, eh? Deuced funny! MME. DUPONT. Yes. DUPONT. You don’t think so? You don’t! Eh? Wasn’t it funny? MME. DUPONT. Yes. Yes. DUPONT. When Mother Mairaut took it in I thought she was going to have a fit. ‘It’s an insult!’ she shrieked. I believe she actually even called me a cad! As for me, I was almost dying with laughter. They went away swearing they were going straight to the bank to tell Antonin. By Jove I haven’t enjoyed myself so much for ever so long. MME. DUPONT [_becoming serious again_] I hope this won’t make any difference to Julie. DUPONT. Bah! MME. DUPONT. Things are not going very well with her, I’m afraid. Antonin is exacting and tyrannical, and she often locks herself into her room to cry. DUPONT. That always happens in the early days of marriage. People’s angles need rubbing off. That sort of marriage turns out best in the end. [_Julie comes in_] Here she is. Speak to her. Tell her these things aren’t serious. Make her understand her duty. I must go back to my accounts. [_To Julie_] Well? What did your sister Angèle say to you? JULIE. Hardly anything. She didn’t know me, and I shouldn’t have known her. DUPONT. I told you so. Well, I must be off. Back soon. [_He goes out_]. MME. DUPONT. My dear—your husband may be rather put out when he comes in.