Mertuil:
Valmont, you disappoint me. That's what's keeping you here. Tell me, are you really falling in love?
Valmont:
Does that make you jealous?
Mertuil:
Not really.
Cecile:
We will only write this time, won't we?
Valmont:
You are confusing bets and marriages, madame. One must always honor a bet.
Madame de Volanges:
Cecile! Martine!
Martine:
Yes, Madame?
Madame de Volanges:
Where is Cecile?
Martine:
[
nervously] Cecile? She's... she has...
Madame de Volanges:
Where is she? Have you been at your post all night?
Martine:
Yes, madame.
Madame de Volanges:
Has anyone come in?
Martine:
No, Madame.
Madame de Volanges:
Martine.
Martine:
[
fearfully] Yes, Madame?
Madame de Volanges:
Did she go and see that music teacher?
Martine:
[
hysterically] I don't know, Madame. She doesn't talk to me anymore. She only talks to Madame de Merteuil now.
[
Volanges leaves, but Martine continues]
Martine:
And she... she...
[
she finally collapses unconcious]
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