SCENE FIRST

(Setting is an attic and workshop of an artificial flower-maker. It is
poorly lighted by means of a candle placed on the work-table. The
ceiling slopes abruptly at the back allowing space to conceal a man.
On the right is a door, on the left a fireplace. Pamela is discovered
at work, and Joseph Binet is seated near her.)

Pamela, Joseph Binet and later Jules Rousseau.

Pamela
Monsieur Joseph Binet!

Joseph
Mademoiselle Pamela Giraud!

Pamela
I plainly see that you wish me to hate you.

Joseph
The idea! What? And this is the beginning of our love—Hate me!

Pamela
Oh, come! Let us talk sensibly.

Joseph
You do not wish, then, that I should express how much I love you?

Pamela
Ah! I may as well tell you plainly, since you compel me to do so, that
I do not wish to become the wife of an upholsterer's apprentice.

Joseph
Is it necessary to become an emperor, or something like that, in order
to marry a flower-maker?

Pamela
No. But it is necessary to be loved, and I don't love you in any way
whatever.

Joseph
In any way! I thought there was only one way of loving.

Pamela
So there is, but there are many ways of not loving. You can be my
friend, without my loving you.

Joseph
Oh!

Pamela
I can look upon you with indifference—

Joseph
Ah!

Pamela
You can be odious to me! And at this moment you weary me, which is
worse!

Joseph
I weary her! I who would cut myself into fine pieces to do all that
she wishes!

Pamela
If you would do what I wish, you would not remain here.

Joseph
And if I go away—Will you love me a little?

Pamela
Yes, for the only time I like you is when you are away!

Joseph
And if I never came back?

Pamela
I should be delighted.

Joseph
Zounds! Why should I, senior apprentice with M. Morel, instead of
aiming at setting up business for myself, fall in love with this young
lady? It is folly! It certainly hinders me in my career; and yet I
dream of her—I am infatuated with her. Suppose my uncle knew it!—But
she is not the only woman in Paris, and, after all, Mlle. Pamela
Giraud, who are you that you should be so high and mighty?

Pamela
I am the daughter of a poor ruined tailor, now become a porter. I gain
my own living—if working night and day can be called living—and it
is with difficulty that I snatch a little holiday to gather lilacs in
the Pres-Saint-Gervais; and I certainly recognize that the senior
apprentice of M. Morel is altogether too good for me. I do not wish to
enter a family which believes that it would thus form a mesalliance.
The Binets indeed!

Joseph
But what has happened to you in the last eight or ten days, my dear
little pet of a Pamela? Up to ten days ago I used to come and cut out
your flowers for you, I used to make the stalks for the roses, and the
hearts for the violets; we used to talk together, we sometimes used to
go to the play, and have a good cry there—and I was "good Joseph,"
"my little Joseph"—a Joseph in fact of the right stuff to make your
husband. All of a sudden—Pshaw! I became of no account.

Pamela
Now you must really go away. Here you are neither in the street, nor
in your own house.

Joseph
Very well, I'll be off, mademoiselle—yes, I'll go away! I'll have a
talk in the porter's lodge with your mother; she does not ask anything
better than my entrance into the family, not she; she won't change her
mind!

Pamela
All right! Instead of entering her family, enter her lodge, the
porter's lodge, M. Joseph! Go and talk with my mother, go on!— (Exit
Joseph.) Perhaps he'll keep their attention so that M. Adolph can get
up stairs without being seen. Adolph Durand! What a pretty name! There
is half a romance in it! And what a handsome young man! For the last
fifteen days he has absolutely persecuted me. I knew that I was rather
pretty; but I never believed I was all he called me. He must be an
artist, or a government official! Whatever he is, I can't help liking
him; he is so aristocratic! But what if his appearance were deceitful,
and there were anything wrong about him!—For the letter which he has
just sent me has an air of mystery about it— (She draws a letter from
her bosom and reads it) "Expect me this evening. I wish to see you
alone, and, if possible, to enter unnoticed by any one; my life is in
danger, and oh! if you only knew what a terrible misfortune threatens
me! Adolph Durand." He writes in pencil. His life is in danger—Ah!
How anxious I feel!

Joseph (returning)
Just as I was going down stairs, I said to myself: "Why should Pamela"

(Jules' head appears at the window.)

Pamela
Ah!

Joseph
What's the matter?

(Jules disappears.)

Pamela
I thought I saw—I mean—I thought I heard a sound overhead. Just go
into the garret. Some one perhaps has hidden there. You are not
afraid, are you?

Joseph
No.

Pamela
Very well! Go up and search! Otherwise I shall be frightened for the
whole night.

Joseph
I will go at once. I will climb over the roof if you like.

(He passes through a narrow door that leads to the garret.)

Pamela (follows him)
Be quick! (Jules enters.) Ah! sir, what trouble you are giving me!

Jules
It is to save my life, and perhaps you will never regret it. You know
how much I love you!

(He kisses her hand.)

Pamela
I know that you have told me so; but you treat me—

Jules
As my deliverer.

Pamela
You wrote to me—and your letter has filled me with trouble—I know
neither who you are—

Joseph (from the outer room)
Mademoiselle, I am in the garret. I have looked over the whole roof.

Jules
He is coming back—Where can I hide?

Pamela
But you must not stay here!

Jules
You wish to ruin me, Pamela!

Pamela
Look, hide yourself there!

(She points to the cranny under the sloping roof.)

Joseph (returning)
Are you alone, mademoiselle?

Pamela
No; for are not you here?

Joseph
I heard something like the voice of a man. The voice came from below.

Pamela
Nonsense, more likely it came from above—Look down the staircase—

Joseph
Oh! But I am sure—

Pamela
Nonsense. Leave me, sir; I wish to be alone.

Joseph
Alone, with a man's voice?

Pamela
I suppose you don't believe me?

Joseph
But I heard it plain enough.

Pamela
You heard nothing.

Joseph
Ah! Pamela!

Pamela
If you prefer to believe the sounds which you say reached your ears,
rather than the words I speak, you would make a very bad husband. That
is quite sufficient for me.

Joseph
That doesn't prove that I did not hear—

Pamela
Since I can't convince you, you can believe what you like. Yes! you
did hear a voice, the voice of a young man, who is in love with me,
and who does whatever I wish—He disappears when he is asked, and
comes when he is wanted. And now what are you waiting for? Do you
think that while he is here, your presence can be anything but
disagreeable to us? Go and ask my father and mother what his name is.
He must have told them when he came up stairs—he, and the voice you
heard.

Joseph
Mlle. Pamela, forgive a poor youth who is mad with love. It is not
only my heart that I have lost, but my head also, when I think of you.
I know that you are just as good as you are beautiful, I know that you
have in your soul more treasures of sweetness than you ever show, and
so I know that you are right, and were I to hear ten voices, were I to
see ten men here, I would care nothing about it. But one—

Pamela
Well, what of it?

Joseph
A single one—that is what wounds me. But I must be off; it seems
funny that I should have said all that to you. I know quite well that
there is no one here but you. Till we meet again, Mlle