e thing.

MADEMOISELLE DE MEURIOT. I know that. But it sounds so different.
[_Taking another letter_] "A red nose"--

MADEMOISELLE GREGOIRE. Lemon juice.

MADEMOISELLE DE MEURIOT [_continuing_] "Superfluous hairs." Be sure to
recommend the cream that gives us advertisements; don't make any mistake
about that. "Black specks on the chin," "Wrinkles round the eyes."

MADEMOISELLE GREGOIRE. There's no cure for that.

MADAME CHANTEUIL. Tell her to go to bed early and alone.

MADEMOISELLE DE MEURIOT. That's too easy, she wouldn't believe in it.
Find something else. [_Continuing to read_] "To make them firm without
enlarging them"; that's for you too. And all the rest I think. "To
whiten the teeth," "To make the hair lighter," "To give firmness to the
bust."

MADAME CHANTEUIL. They're always asking that.

MADEMOISELLE DE MEURIOT [_reading_] "To enlarge the eyes," "get rid of
wrinkles"--"and double chins"--"a clear complexion"--"to keep
young"--ouf! That's all. No, here's one that wants white arms. They're
all alike, poor women!

MADEMOISELLE GREGOIRE. And all that to please men.

MADAME CHANTEUIL. To please a man more than some other woman, and so to
be fed, lodged, and kept by him.

MADEMOISELLE GREGOIRE [_between her teeth_] _Kept_ is the right word.

MADEMOISELLE DE MEURIOT. Ah, here's Mademoiselle Baron. [_To
Mademoiselle Baron_] Well? What luck?

MADEMOISELLE BARON [_miserably_] There's no one in the office. I've got
the signed contract for the advertisements of the Institut de Jouvence.
Now I must go on to the printers. Here it is. Good-bye. [_A silence_]

MADEMOISELLE DE MEURIOT [_in a suffocated voice_] Good-bye, my dear.

_They watch her go sadly. A long silence._

THERESE [_speaking with great emotion_] Poor, _poor_ little thing!

MADEMOISELLE DE MEURIOT [_also quite overcome, slowly_] Perhaps she has
someone at home who's hungry.

_They each respond by a sigh or an ouf! Mademoiselle
Gregoire, Madame Chanteuil, and Mademoiselle de Meuriot
rise, picking up their papers._

MADEMOISELLE GREGOIRE. I must go and see to the "Doctor's Page."

MADAME CHANTEUIL. And I to the "Gleaner's Column."

_They go out to the right. Therese rests her chin on her two
hands and reflects profoundly. Monsieur Nerisse comes in at
the back._

NERISSE [_speaking back to the people he has left in his office in an
irritated voice_] Do as you like. I've told you my opinion. I wash my