let me by. If you want to see me again, you know the way to the Theater.—What is your name?
Desmoulins. Camille Desmoulins.—How imprudent of you! I told you—weren't you afraid?
La Contat. Of what?
Desmoulins. They nearly killed you.
La Contat. The idea! They shout, of course, but they never do anything.
Desmoulins. You are blind. They are right who say that to despise danger is merely to be unaware of it.
The Crowd. The little lady has warmth in her eyes!—Elsewhere, too!
A Workingman. That's all very well, Mademoiselle, but it's not the thing to set yourself against the poor like us, and side with the people who are exploiting us!
The Maniac. Lord, she's a monopolist!
La Contat. What! A monopolist!
The Maniac. Look at your wig.
La Contat. Well?
The Maniac. All that powder! There's enough flour on the necks of the idle rich to feed the poor of Paris!
The Workingman [to La Contat]. Never mind him; he's crazy. If you have a good heart, Mademoiselle—and I can see in your eyes that you have—how can you defend the cut-throats who want to destroy us?
La Contat. Destroy you, my friend? Who told you that?
A Student. Don't you know? Here's the latest
