Julia.
Come, then--we'll die together--together! (_They sink into each other's
arms and remain motionless in mute despair. After a time_, Julia
_raises her head cautiously and looks about her._) Pierre!
Pierre (_troubled_).
Well?
Julia.
Has it occurred to you? Perhaps it isn't so, after all!
Pierre.
What do you mean?
Julia.
Perhaps we've just been talking ourselves into this notion, little by
little--think so?
Pierre.
You mean that he really wanted to do nothing but--look at the pavilion?
Julia.
Well, it's possible, you know.
Pierre.
Yes--at least nothing very unusual occurred.
Julia.
But your naughty, naughty conscience came and asserted itself. Ha! Ha!
What a silly little boy it is! A downright stupid little boy!
Pierre.