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LEON.In three days you shall have my answer (rising), and now I will say good-bye.

JADWIGA. Wait a moment. This is not so easy as you think. Truly, I would think you are afraid of me. It is true that they say I am a coquette, a flirt. I know they talk very badly about me. Besides we are good acquaintances, who have not seen each other for two years. Let us then talk a little. Let me take your hat. Yes, that is it! Now let us talk. I am sure we may become friends again. As for me at least–what do you intend to do in the future besides painting my portrait?

LEON.The conversation about me would not last long. Let us take another more interesting subject. You had better talk about yourself–about your life, your family.

JADWIGA. As for my husband, he is, as usual, in Chantilly. My mother is dead! Poor mama! She was so fond of you–she loved you very much (after a pause). In fact, as you see, I have grown old and changed greatly.

LEON.At your age the words “I have grown old” are only a daring challenge thrown by a woman who is not afraid that she would be believed.

JADWIGA. I am twenty-three years old, so I am not talking about age in years, but age in morals. I feel that to-day I am not like that Jadwiga of Kalinowice whom you used to know so well. Good gracious! when I think to-day of that confidence and faith in life–those girlish illusions–the illusions of a young person who wished to be happy and make others happy, that enthusiasm for everything good and noble! where has all that gone–where has it disappeared? And to think that I was–well, an honest wild-flower–and to-day–

LEON.And to-day a society woman.

JADWIGA. To-day, when I see such a sceptical smile as I saw a few moments ago on your lips, it seems to me that I am ridiculous–very often so–even always when I sit at some ideal embroidery and when I begin to work at some withered flowers on the forgotten, despised canvas of the past. It is a curious and old fashion from times when faithfulness was not looked seriously on, and people sang of Filon.

LEON.At that moment you were speaking according to the latest mode.

JADWIGA. Shall I weep, or try to tie the broken thread? Well, the times change. I can assure you that I have some better moments, during which I laugh heartily at everything (handing him a cigarette). Do you smoke?

LEON.No, madam.

JADWIGA. I do. It is also a distraction. Sometimes I hunt par force with my husband, I read Zola’s novels, I make calls and receive visits, and every morning I ponder as to the best way to kill time. Sometimes I succeed–sometimes not. Apropos, you know my husband, do you not?

LEON.I used to know him.

JADWIGA. He is very fond of hunting, but only par force. We never hunt otherwise.

LEON.Let us be frank. You had better drop that false tone.

JADWIGA. On the contrary. In our days we need impressions which stir our nerves. The latest music, like life itself, is full of dissonances. I do not wish to say that I am unhappy with my husband. It is true that he is always in Chantilly, and I see him only once in three months, but it proves, on the other hand, that he has confidence in me. Is it not true?

LEON.I do not know, and I do not wish to decide about it. But before all, I should not know anything about it.