DURAND. Some candles that I bought for the mass for my dear little Rèné. Today is the anniversary of his death.
ADÈLE. You can afford to buy such things!
DURAND. With my tips, yes. Don't you think it is humiliating to stretch out my hand whenever a traveller leaves us? Can't you grant me the only contentment I possess—let me enjoy my sorrow one time each year? To be able to live in memory of the most beautiful thing life ever gave me?
ADÈLE. If he had only lived until mow, you'd see how beautiful he'd be!
DURAND. It's very possible that there's truth in your irony—as I remember him, however, he was not as you all are now.
ADÈLE. Will you be good enough to receive Monsieur Antonio yourself? He is coming now to have his coffee without bread! Oh, if mother were only living! She always found a way when you stood helpless.
DURAND. Your mother had her good qualities.
ADÈLE. Although you saw only her faults.
DURAND. Monsieur Antonio is coming. If you leave me now, I'll have a talk with him.
ADÈLE. You would do better to go out and borrow some money, so that the scandal would be averted.