JULIE. I am getting used to that. MME. DUPONT. More so than usual, I mean. JULIE. Why? MME. DUPONT. Your father has been unable to keep his promise. JULIE. About the twentyfive thousand francs? MME. DUPONT. Yes. Antonin will have just heard about it. JULIE [_depressed_] No matter. [_Suddenly, alarmed_] I do believe I forgot to tell them to get out his grey suit. No: I remember. I did tell them. How angry he would have been if I hadn’t! MME. DUPONT. Of course. He is your husband. JULIE. You think it quite natural that he should fly into a rage as he did two days ago because something or other had been forgotten? And that it is only reasonable he should order me to go to Mass merely that Madame So-and-so may see me there! Well, he may order as much as he likes. I shall not go. I _will_ not go! MME. DUPONT. You make too much of it. My child, aren’t you happy? JULIE [_ironically_] Of course. MME. DUPONT. Your husband is fond of you, isn’t he? JULIE. That depends on what you mean by fond. MME. DUPONT. I mean he’s very much in love with you. JULIE. I suppose so. MME. DUPONT. You’re angry with him for that? JULIE. No, I’m angry with myself. MME. DUPONT. My dear! What do you mean? JULIE. I am ashamed of myself. MME. DUPONT. I don’t understand. JULIE. Nor do I. Don’t let us talk about it. MME. DUPONT. Please, dear. JULIE [_breaking out_] Well, I _detest_ him. There! MME. DUPONT. Tell me why. JULIE. There is no why in that sort of dislike. It is born and grows with every moment we are together. Every moment there comes some little point on which we clash. We haven’t the same ideas on a single subject. He and I are strangers. We are apart utterly, miserably. We are as far from one another as two human beings can be. [_With a deep sigh_] Oh, to realize that slowly, hopelessly. To feel that every fresh glimpse into each other’s character only reveals a fresh source of offence. Till at last it has come to this, that I am certain the more we know each other the deeper will be our mutual loathing. Every day, every hour will add a fresh hatred to the accumulated hatreds of the others. Great Heavens! And unless we are divorced this will go on all our lives. [_A pause_]. Why, there are moments when he is sitting there in that chair, and I look at him fixedly, and it seems as if I had never seen him before. And why not? After all, it is only six months since I hardly recognized him when we passed in the street. And then I ask myself what am I doing here? I, in my dressing-gown, with my hair down, shut in with that man. And I long to run away screaming. And we are husband and wife. Oh, mother, I am _ashamed_. MME. DUPONT. You must try to be reasonable. Antonin is a fine fellow. Many girls would have been glad to get him.