Rosina. Oh, now, please don't be angry, Mr. Jacob! Not when I want to ask you a favor.
Jacob. Favor? Always favors!
Rosina. It's for my friend.
Pepita. Monsieur…
Rosina. I thought maybe you might let her have a pass for the season.
Jacob. Mon Dieu! A girl like her? Is it possible she can't get anybody to pay her way in?
Rosina. If it wasn't for us, there wouldn't be anybody here, Mr. Jacob.
Jacob. On the contrary, you drive decent people away, people who
Rosina. When have we had so many princes as this year? I know you will, eh, Mr. Jacob?
Jacob. Well, since she's a friend of yours. Go on into the office; but tell her to take more pains with her toilette.
Rosina. She's just got in; her trunk hasn't come yet. I'll look out for her.
Jacob. Where does your friend come from?
Rosina. From Marseilles.
Jacob. Ah! From Marseilles? Tell her not to say she's from Marseilles. It's not a recommendation.
Rosina. She don't look very Parisian either. She might be a Spaniard…
Jacob. That Spanish business has been done to death; however, anything is better than Marseilles. The thing is to have personality, to be some one; not to be just like every one else. There are so many! However, there is something in her face. She may get on, though it is difficult. But there is no reason to be discouraged. Good luck, girls! Good luck! I can't wait; I'm so busy…
Rosina. Thanks, Mr. Jacob.
