. I'm certain she won't say no.

FELIAT. But a year ago you solemnly separated; you both agreed
everything was over.

RENE. Nothing was over. A year ago I was a fool.

GUERET. To the point again.

FELIAT. And what are you now?

RENE. At any rate I am not quite useless any longer. I'm not a boy now,
obliged to do what he's told because he's perfectly incapable of doing
for himself.

FELIAT. Have you found something to do?

RENE. I'm in phosphates.

FELIAT. And what the devil are you in phosphates?

RENE. Representative.

FELIAT. How do you mean?

RENE. A commercial traveller, as father said with great contempt.

GUERET. Well, it was not with a view to that sort of future that he had
you called to the Bar.

RENE. At the Bar I could have earned my own living in about ten
years--possibly. When I had to give up marrying Therese I saw how
useless I was. Thanks to her I found myself out. She gave me a bit of
her own courage. She woke up my self-respect. Besides, after that I had
something to work for, an aim, and I seemed to understand why I was
alive. I worked and read a lot; my firm noticed me; they sent me to
Tunis. I asked them to let me give up clerk work and have a try on my
own. Over there I got into touch with three small firms. I placed their
goods. I earn four hundred francs a month. Next year I mean to start a
little branch in this district where we will manufacture
superphosphates. From now until then I shall travel about the district
and try and get customers; and my wife--and Therese--will go on with her
work here, if you will be so good as to keep her.

GUERET. Ouf! Think of a young man who can talk as long as that, without
taking breath, giving up the Bar. What a pity!

FELIAT [_to Rene_] Have you told all that to your people?

RENE. Yes. They're not at all proud of my business. And after refusing
to let me marry Therese because she had no money they won't let me marry
her now because she works for her living. To be directress of a bindery,
even of your bindery, uncle, is not distinguished enough for them.

FELIAT. Well, my boy, you certainly couldn't have stood up to things
like that a year ago. What d'you want us to do for you? Therese doesn't
want our consent to marry; nor do you.

_While Monsieur Feliat has been speaking, old Mother Bougne
has come in from the right. She is a poor old workwoman who
walks with difficulty, leaning on a broom, from which one
feels t