Man: That's different. You know it's not important. You know you're the only one.

Woman: You'd think it was important if I had.

Man: It's different for a woman. Why? Why did you, what made you go with that singer, why, when I love you so much and desire you so often?

Silence.

Woman: I don't believe we should talk about this. I don't want to know about you. (Crying.) I never wanted to think about it and now you made me.

Man: You're crying! But it's nothing. I forgot it immediately. And in six years only a few times. Whereas you, I'm sure it was many times.

Woman: (still crying) I didn't ask you. Why did you have to tell me?

Man: I'm just more sincere than you are.

Woman: It isn't sincerity, it's revenge. You told me just to hurt me.

Man: I told you because I thought it would drive you into being honest with me.

Silence.

Man: How obstinate you are. Why are you crying?

Woman: Not over your unfaithfulness!

Man: Over your own then?

Woman: I'm crying over unfaithfulness in general—how people hurt each other.

Man: Unfaithfulness in general! What a fine way to evade the particular.

Silence.

Man: I'd like to know how you learned all you know about love-making. Who did you learn from? You know what very few women do.

Woman: I learned...from talking with other women. I also have a natural gift.

Man: I suppose it was Maurice who taught you the most. It enrages me to see how much you know.

Woman: I never asked you where you learned. Besides, it's always personal. Each couple invents their own way.

Man: Yes, that's true. Sometimes I made you cry with joy, didn't I?

Woman: (crying) Why do you use the past tense?

Man: Why did you go off with that singer?

Woman: If you insist so much I will tell you something.

Man: (in a very tense voice) About the singer?

Woman: No, someone else. Once I tried to be unfaithful. You were neglecting me. I took rather a fancy to someone. And all might have gone well except that he had the same habit you have of starting with: you have the softest skin in the world. And when he said this, just as you do, I remembered your saying that, and I left the man, I ran away. Nothing happened.

Man: But just the same he had time to note the quality of your skin.

Woman: I'm telling you the truth.

Man: You have nothing to cry about now. You have taken your revenge.

Woman: I'm crying about unfaithfulness in general, all the betrayals.

Man: I will never forgive you.

Woman: Once in six years!

Man: I'm sure it was that singer.

Faustin, lying down, smoking as he listened, felt the urgent need to comment. He knocked angrily on the wall. The man and the woman were silent.