BRIGNAC. Of course they will. And when the child is born, what then? I’m not thinking of the expense: fortunately for her she has us to fall back on, so she wouldn’t starve. Suppose she put the baby out to nurse? Afterwards she’d have to keep it with her—imagine what people would say! She might pay for it to be brought up elsewhere, but that’s only a way of deserting it. She would never be able to marry. All her life she would be a pariah. No; the only thing is to send her away. LUCIE. Send her away—where to? BRIGNAC. How should I know? We’ll find some place. There are places for that at Paris. Yes; I remember now, special places. We’ll pay whatever is necessary. Establishments where you’re not required to give your name at all. The difficulty will be to find a plausible reason of Annette’s absence. However, we’ll find one. LUCIE. And the child? BRIGNAC. The child? She can do what she likes with that. You don’t suppose I’ll have it back here with her, do you? LUCIE. Then that’s what you’re proposing to do? BRIGNAC. That’s what we must do. LUCIE. How does one get into these places you were speaking of? BRIGNAC. I don’t know exactly. I’ll find out. Don’t worry. If necessary, I’ll go to Paris and take the proper steps. Of course without saying that it’s to do with anyone I know. LUCIE. Of course. BRIGNAC. Of course. LUCIE [_rising and touching him on the shoulder as she passes_] You are a fine fellow. BRIGNAC [_modestly_] Oh, come; only a little thought was wanted. LUCIE. I think you have no conscience at all. BRIGNAC. What do you mean? You speak as if I were a monster. LUCIE. Nothing but respect for public opinion. BRIGNAC. Respect for public opinion is one form of conscience. LUCIE. The conscience of people who haven’t got any! BRIGNAC. Anyway, one can’t do anything else. LUCIE. Can’t you imagine what my poor darling’s life would be like if we did what you said? Turned out of here— BRIGNAC. No, no; not turned out.