ADOLPHE. That's right. Rather abnormally so, in fact, and not the
least when animals are concerned.

MAURICE. And I, on the other hand, am rather callous toward the
sufferings both of myself and others.

ADOLPHE. Now he is not telling the truth about himself. Or what do
you say, Madame Catherine?

MME. CATHERINE. I don't know of anybody with a softer heart than
Monsieur Maurice. He came near calling in the police because I
didn't give the goldfish fresh water--those over there on the
buffet. Just look at them: it is as if they could hear what I am
saying.

MAURICE. Yes, here we are making ourselves out as white as angels,
and yet we are, taking it all in all, capable of any kind of
polite atrocity the moment glory, gold, or women are concerned--So
you are a sculptor, Mademoiselle Henriette?

HENRIETTE. A bit of one. Enough to do a bust. And to do one of
you--which has long been my cherished dream--I hold myself quite
capable.

MAURICE. Go ahead! That dream at least need not be long in coming
true.

HENRIETTE. But I don't want to fix your features in my mind until
this evening's success is over. Not until then will you have