GARCIN: Have it your own way. I suppose we were bound to come to this; they knew what they were about, and we're easy game. If they'd put me in a room with men- men can keep their mouths shut. But it's no use wanting the impossible. So I attract you, little girl? (Fondles her.) It seems you were making eyes at me?
ESTELLE: Don't touch me.
GARCIN: Why not? We might, anyhow, be natural… Do you know, I used to be mad about women? And some were fond of me. So we may as well stop posing, we've nothing to lose. Why trouble about politeness, and decorum, and the rest of it? We're between ourselves. And presently we shall be naked as – as newborn babes.
ESTELLE: Oh, let me be!
GARCIN: As newborn babes. Well, I'd warned you, anyhow. I asked so little of you, nothing but peace and a little silence. I'd put my fingers in my ears. Gomez was spouting away as usual, standing in the center of the room, with all the pressmen listening. In their shirt-sleeves. I tried to hear, but it wasn't easy. Things on earth move so quickly, you know. Couldn't you have held your tongues? Now it's over, he's stopped talking, and what he thinks of me has gone back into his head. Well, we've got to see it through somehow…Naked as we were born. So much the better; I want to know whom I have to deal with.
INEZ: You know already. There's nothing more to learn.
GARCIN: You're wrong. So long as each of us hasn't made a clean breast of it- why they've damned him or her- we know nothing. Nothing that counts. You, young lady, you shall begin. Why? Tell us why. If you are frank, if we bring our specters into the open, it may save us from disaster. So- out with it! Why?
ESTELLE: I tell you I haven't a notion. They wouldn't tell me why.
GARCIN: That's so. They wouldn't tell me, either. But I've a pretty good idea… Perhaps you're shy of speaking first? RIght. I'll lead off. I'm not a very estimable person.
INEZ: No need to tell us that. We know you were a deserter.
GARCIN: Let that be. It's only a side-issue. I'm here because I treated my wife abominably. That's all. For five years. Naturally, she's suffering still. There she is: the moment I mention her, I see her. It's Gomez who interests me, and it's she I see. Where's Gomez got to? For five years. There! They've given her back my things; she's sitting by the window, with my coat on her knees. The coat with the twelve bullet-holes. The blood's like rust; a brown ring round each hole. It's quite a museum-piece, that coat; scarred with history. And I used to wear it, fancy!… Now, can't you shed a tear, my love! Surely you'll squeeze one out- at last? No? You can't manage it?… Night after night I came home blind drunk, stinking of wine and women. She'd sat up for me, of course. But she never cried, never uttered a word of reproach. Only her eyes spoke. Big, tragic eyes. I don't regret anything. I must pay the price, but I shan't whine… It's snowing in the street. Won't you cry, confound you? That woman was a born martyr, you know; a victim by vocation.
INEZ: Why did you hurt her like that?
GARCIN: It was so easy. A wored was enough to make her flinch. Like a sensitive-plant. But never, never a reproach. I'm fond of teasing. I watched and waited. But no, not a tear, not a protest. I'd picked her up out of the gutter, you understand…Now she's stroking the coat. Her eyes are shut and she's feeling with her fingeres for the bullet-holes. What are you after? What do you expect? I tell you I regret nothing. The truth is, she admired me too much. Does that mean anything to you?
INEZ: No. Nobody admired me.
GARCIN: So much the better. So much the better for you. I suppose all this trikes you as very vague. Well, here's something hou can get your teeth into. I brought a half-caste girl to stay in our house. My wife slept upstairs; she must have heard- everything. She was an early riser and, as I and the girl stayed in bed late, she served us our morning coffee.
INEZ: You brute!
GARCIN: Yes, a brute, if you like. But a well-beloved brute. (Far-away look comes to his eyes.) No, it's nothing. Only Gomez, and he's not talking about me… What were you saying? Yes, a brute. Certainly. Else why should I be here? Your turn.
INEZ: Well, I was what some people down there called " a damned bitch." Damned already. So it's no surprise, being here.
GARCIN: Is that all you have to say?
INEZ: No. There was that affair with Florence. A dead men's tale. With three corpses to it. He to start with; the she and I. So there's no oneleft. I've nothing to worry about; it was a aclean sweep. Only that room. I see it now and then. Empty, with the doors locked… No, they've just unlocked them. "To Let." It's to let; there's a notice on the door. that's – too ridiculous.
GARCIN: Three. Three deaths, you said?
INEZ: Three.
GARCIN: One man and two women?
INEZ: Yes.
GARCIN: Well, well. Did he kill himself?
INEZ: He? No, he hadn't the guts for that. Still, he'd every reason; we led him a dog's life. As a matter of fact, he was run over by a tram. A silly sort of end… I was living with them; he was my cousin.
GARCIN: Was Florence fair?
INEZ: Fair? You know, I don't regret a thing; still, I'm not so very keen on telling you the story.
GARCIN: That's all right… So you got sick of him?
INEZ: Quite gradually. All sorts of little things got on my nerves. For instance, he made a noise when he was drinking- a sort of gurgle. Trifles like that. He was rather pathetic really. Vulnerable. Why are you smiling?
GARCIN: Because I, anyhow, am not vulnerable.
INEZ: Don't be too sure… I crept inside her skin, she saw the world through my eyes. When she left him, I had her on my hands. We shared a bed-sitting-room at the other end of the town.
GARCIN: And then?
INEZ: Then that tram did its job. I used to remind her every day: "Yes, my pet, we killed him between us." I'm rather cruel, really.
GARCIN: So am I.
INEZ: No, you're not cruel. It's something else.
GARCIN: What?
INEZ: I'll tell you later. When I say I'm cruel, I mean I can't get on without making people suffer. Like a live coal. A livek coal in others' hearts.
When I'm alone I flicker out. For six months I flamed away in her heart, till there was nothing but a cinder. One night she got up and turned on the gas while I was asleep. Then she crept back into bed. So now you know.
GARCIN: Well! Well!
INEZ: Yes? What's in your mind?
GARCIN: Nothing. Only that it's not a pretty story
INEZ: Obviously. But what matter?
GARCIN: As you say, what matter? Your turn. What have you done.
ESTELLE: As I told you, I haven't a notion. I rack my brain, but it's no use.
GARCIN: Right. Then we'll give you a hand. That fellow with the smashed face, who was he?
ESTELLE: Who- who do you mean?
INEZ: You know quite well. The man you were so scared of seeing when you came in.
ESTELLE: Oh, him! A friend of mine.
GARCIN: Why were you afraid of him?
ESTELLE: That's my business, Mr. Garcin.
INEZ: Did he shoot himself on your account?
ESTELLE: Of course not. How absurd you are!
GARCIN: Then why should you have been so scared? He blew his brains out, didn't he? That's how his face got smashed.