VANHOVE [coming down with a cup of coffee].-Don't you take coffee, Thirion? [Thirion tries to put on a good face.] What a face! [To Prosper.] Just look! THIRION.-An idea! The master of the house! He must know the handwriting of everybody here. [To Vanhove, giving him the folded paper.] Who wrote that?

VANHOVE. That? [Reads.] "I have returned

THIRION." I have returned!" He says that he is leaving. VANHOVE." They want me to study for my bachelor's degree"

THIRION. His bachelor's degree? No, no-it reads "My love"

VANHOVE." My bachelor's degree "-It's written in lead

pencil.

THIRION.-No, no! [Takes the folded paper and hands it back opened.] There! There!

PROSPER [recognizing the letter].-The letter!

[Snatches it from Vanhove.

VANHOVE [laughing].—Come, let's see it.

PROSPER.-No, you shall not see it.

VANHOVE [still laughing at Thirion].—Hey?

THIRION.-What does this mean?

PROSPER.-It means that I admit nobody here into my confi

dence.

THIRION.-It's he! He wrote it.

VANHOVE.-This letter

PROSPER.-Well, yes-I wrote it! What of it?

THIRION. YOU! My friend! Under my roof! To declare his passion for Colomba

VANHOVE [jumping].-Eh?

PROSPER [shrugging his shoulders].-What nonsense! VANHOVE.-But, sir, this is monstrous! This morning you ask for the hand of Marthe; this evening you promise to marry Suzanne; and you still find time to love— THIRION.-Colomba!

COLOMBA [coming forward].-Yes, dear?

PROSPER.-What nonsense!

lomba?

THIRION.-You, wretch!

PROSPER.-Do keep still!

Who's thinking of loving Co

THIRION. You call her "my love!"
PROSPER.-It's a lie!

VANHOVE.-Your proof, sir.

PROSPER [embarrassed].-My proof!

SUZANNE.-The letter!

CLARISSE. The letter!

at once.

[Showing the letter to Suzanne.

PROSPER. My proof?-is that I call upon Mademoiselle Suzanne, my future wife, gentlemen, to take cognizance [Offers the letter to Suzanne. VANHOVE [Snatching the letter].-So be it! Suzanne! SUZANNE [laughing].—Quite unnecessary, my friend. I know what it is.

VANHOVE.-You know?

SUZANNE.-A mere bit of nonsense. Burn it.

VANHOVE. Take care, Suzanne. Your happiness is at stake. SUZANNE [picking up a lighted candle from the table].-Burn! Burn!

VANHOVE. You wish it? [To Prosper.] You are a happy man to marry a woman

[Lights the paper and throws it on the ground. PROSPER [watching the paper burn].—Ah, you rogue! You've given us enough trouble.

THIRION. All the same it was written "my love!"
COLOMBA.-What's that?

SUZANNE. Good news. We're going to marry Marthe and

Paul!

PAUL [rushing from his hiding place].—What joy!

COLOMBA. He was there all the time!

PAUL [kissing Marthe's hand].-Ah, how happy I am.

PROSPER [to Suzanne].-And I!

SUZANNE.-You! You're going to start for Honolulu !

PROSPER. With my wife, yes.

SUZANNE Never!

CLARISSE.-Ah! My dear Suzanne!

PROSPER.-Ah! My dear Suzanne!

SUZANNE. I see it's decreed I am to sacrifice myself for
everybody and all on account of a letter-
PROSPER.-Ah, dear little scrap of paper-don't scold it!
SUZANNE.-A pretty chase it has led us.