]
MME. X. Come and see us this evening, Amelie, and show us that
you're not put out with us,--not put out with me at any rate. I
don't know, but I think it would be uncomfortable to have you for
an enemy. Perhaps it's because I stood in your way [rallentando]
or--I really--don't know why--in particular.
[Pause. Mlle. Y. stares at Mme. X curiously.]
MME. X [Thoughtfully]. Our acquaintance has been so queer. When I
saw you for the first time I was afraid of you, so afraid that I
didn't dare let you out of my sight; no matter when or where, I
always found myself near you--I didn't dare have you for an enemy,
so I became your friend. But there was always discord when you came
to our house, because I saw that my husband couldn't endure you,
and the whole thing seemed as awry to me as an ill-fitting gown--
and I did all I could to make him friendly toward you, but with no
success until you became engaged. Then came a violent friendship
between you, so that it looked all at once as though you both dared
show your real feelings only when you were secure--and then--how
was it later? I didn't get jealous--strange to say! And I remember
at the christening, when you acted as godmother, I made him kiss
you--he did so, and you became so confused--as it were; I didn't
notice it then--didn't think about it later, either--have never
thought about it until--now! [Rises suddenly.] Why are you silent?
You haven't said a word this whole time, but you have let me go on
talking! You have sat there, and your eyes have reeled out of me
all these thoughts which lay like raw silk in its cocoon--thoughts--
suspicious thoughts, perhaps.
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