WILLMER. Now, we'll see something!
BERTHA. How do you know that he is refused?
ABEL. H'm, I met a "hors concours" who knew, and I was quite prepared to witness a scene when I came in here. But of course he hasn't received the notice yet.
BERTHA. No, not that I know of. But, Abel, are you sure that Axel will meet Madame Roubey and not Monsieur?
ABEL. What should he see Monsieur Roubey for? He hasn't any say about it, but she is president of the Woman-Painters Protective Society.
BERTHA. And I am not refused—yet?
ABEL. No, as I said, and Axel's call is bound to do good. He has a Russian order, and everything Russian is very popular in Paris just now. But it's too had about Axel just the same.
BERTHA. Too bad? Why? They haven't room for everybody on the salon walls. There are so many women refused that a man might put up with it and be made to feel it for once. But if I get in now—we'll soon hear how he painted my picture, how he has taught me, how he has paid for my lessons. But I shall not take any notice of that, because it isn't true.
WILLMER. Well, we're bound to see something unusual happen now.
BERTHA. No, I believe—granted that I am not refused—that we'll see something very usual. But nevertheless I'm afraid of the actual moment. Something tells me that things won't be right between Axel and me again.