MILLE. [She trips over his feet and sinks on to his knee] Oh!
Monsieur!

BUILDER flames up and catches her in his arms

Oh! Monsieur--

BUILDER. You little devil!

She suddenly kisses him, and he returns the kiss. While they are
engaged in this entrancing occupation, MRS BUILDER opens the door
from the hall, watches unseen for a few seconds, and quietly goes
out again.

BUILDER. [Pushing her back from him, whether at the sound of the door or
of a still small voice] What am I doing?

CAMILLE. Kissing.

BUILDER. I--I forgot myself.

They rise.

CAMILLE. It was na-ice.

BUILDER. I didn't mean to. You go away--go away!

CAMILLE. Oh! Monsieur, that spoil it.

BUILDER. [Regarding her fixedly] It's my opinion you're a temptation of
the devil. You know you sat down on purpose.

CAMILLE. Well, perhaps.

BUILDER. What business had you to? I'm a family man.

CAMILLE. Yes. What a pity! But does it matter?

BUILDER. [Much beset] Look here, you know! This won't do! It won't
do! I--I've got my reputation to think of!

CAMILLE. So 'ave I! But there is lots of time to think of it in
between.

BUILDER. I knew you were dangerous. I always knew it.

CAMILLE. What a thing to say of a little woman!

BUILDER. We're not in Paris.

CAMILLE. [Clasping her hands] Oh! 'Ow I wish we was!

BUILDER. Look here--I can't stand this; you've got to go. Out with you!
I've always kept a firm hand on myself, and I'm not going to--

CAMILLE. But I admire you so!

BUILDER. Suppose my wife had come in?

CAMILLE. Oh! Don't suppose any such a disagreeable thing! If you were
not so strict, you would feel much 'appier.

BUILDER. [Staring at her] You're a temptress!

CAMILLE. I lofe pleasure, and I don't get any. And you 'ave such a
duty, you don't get any sport. Well, I am 'ere!

She stretches herself, and BUILDER utters a deep sound.

BUILDER. [On the edge of succumbing] It's all against my--I won't do
it! It's--it's wrong!

CAMILLE. Oh! La, la!

BUILDER. [Suddenly revolting] No! If you thought it a sin--I--might.
But you don't; you're nothing but a--a little heathen.

CAMILLE. Why should it be better if I thought it a sin?

BUILDER. Then--then I should know where I was. As it is--

CAMILLE. The English 'ave no idea of pleasure. They make it all so
coarse and virtuous.

BUILDER. Now, out you go before I--! Go on!

He g