BRIGNAC. Surely you can see that I was not going to annoy a man whom we want to consult professionally. [_A pause. He looks at his watch. Lucie returns_] Well, five o’clock. I’m off to the club for my game of dominoes. Ta, ta. You dine here, Madeleine, of course? MADELEINE. No; I can’t. We’ve some official people to go to in the evening. But I’ll look in for news of the chicks. BRIGNAC. Very well. I’ll upset all Dr. Hourtin’s theories for you in five seconds. You wait and see. MADELEINE. All right. BRIGNAC. Good bye. [_He goes out_]. MADELEINE. Annette not back yet? LUCIE. She won’t be long now. MADELEINE. Lucie, don’t you think perhaps she goes rather too often to the Bernins? LUCIE. Gabrielle’s her best friend. MADELEINE. Hm, yes. LUCIE. They’re both so keen on music. Besides, the poor little dear doesn’t get too much fun. It’s dull for her here. I can see she feels it, particularly lately. She only brightens up when she goes to see Gabrielle. MADELEINE. Yes; but that girl has a brother. LUCIE. Jacques. MADELEINE. Just so; Jacques. LUCIE. Have you heard people talking about Annette in connection with him? MADELEINE. No. Well, then, yes; I have. Listen, dear. We’re rather peculiarly placed, aren’t we? Three orphan girls. I’m married; twice, though I’m only twenty-eight, and you’re married, for the first time. LUCIE. And for the last, I should hope. MADELEINE [_laughing_] Tut, tut! LUCIE [_laughing too_] Monster! MADELEINE. Then you took our youngest sister to live with you. A perfect arrangement, so long as you look after her as you would after your own girl, or as mother would have done. LUCIE. She’s eighteen. MADELEINE. That’s just it. LUCIE. I don’t see what danger there is for Annette. MADELEINE. Nor do I. But we’re not alone in the world. As it is, people look astonished—of course it’s a silly little provincial place—at her going out alone. LUCIE. Oh, to see Gabrielle, five minutes off! MADELEINE. I know, I know. Tell me, do you think that the Bernin boy would be a possible match for Annette? LUCIE. I never thought about it. Well, why not? MADELEINE. Hm, hm! LUCIE. He’s about the right age. He seems to be a good fellow. MADELEINE. Oh, yes. LUCIE. His family is well enough. MADELEINE. And—the money? LUCIE. Yes; that’s true. The Bernins are rich and Annette has nothing. Yes; you’re right. She was going to spend a week with them in the country. I’ll find an excuse for her not going. Perhaps I had better say something to her about it. MADELEINE. There’s no hurry; but we must see that no harm happens to our little pet. LUCIE. Good heavens! I should never forgive myself. _Annette, fair, eighteen years old, runs in, overflowing with joy._ ANNETTE. What luck! Madeleine, too! Here, Josephine! [_She throws her hat to Josephine, who drops it on the floor_] Oh, stupid! [_Recovering herself_] All right, there. Don’t be cross, Fifine. [_She kisses Josephine and shoves her out_]. LUCIE. What’s the matter?