THERESE. I don't want pity. Don't be unhappy about me. I shall be able to manage for myself. I have plenty of courage. MADAME NERISSE. I'm so ashamed to let you go like this. How honest and loyal you are! [_To herself_] I was honest too, once. THERESE. Good-bye, Madame. [_She begins to tidy her papers_] MADAME NERISSE. Good-bye, Therese. _Madame Nerisse goes out._ _When Therese is left alone she breaks down and bursts out crying like a little child. Then she wipes her eyes, puts her hat on, goes to the cardboard box, and takes out her veil, which she slips into her little bag. She takes out Monsieur Nerisse's letter; still crying she puts the letter into another envelope, which she closes and leaves well in sight upon the table. Then she takes her little black moleskin bag and her umbrella and goes out slowly. She is worn out, almost stooping; and, as the curtain falls, one sees the poor little figure departing, its shoulders shaken by sobs._ ACT III SCENE:--_Therese's studio at the bookbinding workshops of Messrs. Feliat and Gueret at Evreux. Strewn about are materials for binding books: patterns, tools, and silks. A glazed door on the right opens into the general women's workshops, and there is a door leading into a small office on the left. In the middle, towards the back, is a large drawing table; several easels stand about. There are some chairs and a small bureau. Cards hang upon the walls, on which are printed the text of the Factory Laws. There is a door at the back._ _It is October._ _Monsieur Gueret and Monsieur Feliat come in excitedly._ GUERET. I tell you Duriot's men are coming out on strike. FELIAT. And I ask you, what's that to me? GUERET. Ours will do the same. FELIAT. Oh no, they won't. GUERET. You'll see. FELIAT. Duriot's men are furious with the women because of what happened last year. GUERET. They say woman's the enemy in business. FELIAT. Let 'em talk. GUERET. They want Duriot to sack all his women. FELIAT. And I've told you why. There's no danger of anything like that happening here. GUERET. You think so, do you? Well, you'll see. FELIAT. We shall see. GUERET. You'll give in only after they've broken two or three of your machines as they did Duriot's, or done something worse, perhaps. FELIAT. My dear Gueret, I get out of the women for a cent what I have to pay the men three cents for. And as long as I can economize ten cents on the piece I shall go on. GUERET. You'll regret it. If I was in your place--[_He stops_] FELIAT. Well, what would you do if you were in my place? GUERET. What should I do? FELIAT. Yes, what? GUERET. I shouldn't take long to think. I'd cut off a finger to save my hand, I'd turn out every one of the women to-morrow. FELIAT. You're mad. You've always objected to my employing women, and I know very well why. GUERET. Well, let's hear why.