GEORGE. Hang it, doctors are only men. After all they must live; and when their consultations are forty francs apiece, why, the more the merrier. HENRIETTE. And some quite unknown little doctor cured you in three months! GEORGE. Yes; he was quite unknown. The odd thing is I have absolutely forgotten his address. I found it in the paper, I remember. I know vaguely that it was somewhere near the Halles; but if I was to have my head chopped off for it, I couldn’t find it again. Idiotic, isn’t it? HENRIETTE. Consequently, Germaine is six months less old than she ought to be. GEORGE. What of that? We shall keep her so much the longer. She will be married six months later, that’s all. HENRIETTE. Oh, don’t speak of it. It’s odious to think even now that we shall lose her some day. GEORGE. Ah! I can see myself going up the steps of the Madeleine with her on my arm. HENRIETTE. Why the Madeleine? GEORGE. I don’t know. She’ll have on a great white veil and I shall have an order in my buttonhole. HENRIETTE. Indeed! Pray what will you have done to get an order? GEORGE. I don’t know, but I shall have one. Say what you like, I shall. What a glorious crowd there’ll be! HENRIETTE. That’s all in the dim, distant future. GEORGE. Ah, yes. HENRIETTE. Yes, happily. [_Getting up_] Well, do you mind if I go and pay my visits now? GEORGE. Run along, run along. I shall work hard while you are out. Look at all these papers! I shall be up to my eyes in them before you’re downstairs. Good-bye. HENRIETTE. Good-bye. [_She kisses him and goes out at the back by the right_]. _George lights a cigarette, looks at himself in the glass, and throws himself into the easy chair to the left, humming a tune. By way of being more comfortable, he moves away the writing chair and puts his feet on the desk, smoking and humming in perfect contentment. Madame Dupont comes in by the door on the left._ GEORGE [_getting up_] Hullo! Why, mother! We had no wire, so we didn’t expect you till to-morrow. Henriette has just gone out. I can call her back. MME. DUPONT. No; I did not want Henriette to be here when I came. GEORGE. What’s the matter? _The conversation that follows is broken by long silences._ MME. DUPONT. I have brought back the child and the nurse. GEORGE. Is baby ill? MME. DUPONT. Yes. GEORGE. What’s wrong with her? MME. DUPONT. Nothing serious; at least for the moment. GEORGE. We must send for the doctor. MME. DUPONT. I have just come from the doctor’s. GEORGE. Good. I’m not going out. I’ll wait for him. MME. DUPONT. I have seen him. GEORGE. Ah, you found him in? MME. DUPONT. I telegraphed to him from the country, took the child to see him. GEORGE. It was so urgent as that? MME. DUPONT. After what the nurse’s doctor had told me, I wished to be reassured immediately. GEORGE. And after all there is nothing serious. MME. DUPONT. For the moment. GEORGE. When you got down there, how did you find baby?