CLARE. No?

LADY DEDMOND. George is most willing to take up things just as they were before you left.

CLARE. Ah!

LADY DEDMOND. Quite frankly--what is it you want?

CLARE. To be left alone. Quite frankly, he made a mistake to have me spied on.

LADY DEDMOND. But, my good girl, if you'd let us know where you were, like a reasonable being. You can't possibly be left to yourself without money or position of any kind. Heaven knows what you'd be driven to!

MALISE. [Softly] Delicious!

SIR CHARLES. You will be good enough to repeat that out loud, sir.

LADY DEDMOND. Charles! Clare, you must know this is all a fit of spleen; your duty and your interest--marriage is sacred, Clare.

CLARE. Marriage! My marriage has become the--the reconciliation--of two animals--one of them unwilling. That's all the sanct.i.ty there is about it.

SIR CHARLES. What!

[She looks at MALISE]

LADY DEDMOND. You ought to be horribly ashamed. CLARE. Of the fact-I am.

LADY DEDMOND. [Darting a glance at MALISE] If we are to talk this out, it must be in private.

MALISE. [To CLARE] Do you wish me to go?

CLARE. No.

LADY DEDMOND. [At MALISE] I should have thought ordinary decent feeling--Good heavens, girl! Can't you see that you're being played with?

CLARE. If you insinuate anything against Mr. Malise, you lie.

LADY DEDMOND. If you will do these things--come to a man's rooms----

CLARE. I came to Mr. Malise because he's the only person I know with imagination enough to see what my position is; I came to him a quarter of an hour ago, for the first time, for definite advice, and you instantly suspect him. That is disgusting.

LADY DEDMOND. [Frigidly] Is this the natural place for me to find my son's wife?

CLARE. His woman.

LADY DEDMOND. Will you listen to Reginald?

CLARE. I have.

LADY DEDMOND. Haven't you any religious sense at all, Clare?

CLARE. None, if it's religion to live as we do.

LADY DEDMOND. It's terrible--this state of mind! It's really terrible!

CLARE breaks into the soft laugh of the other evening. As if galvanized by the sound, SIR CHARLES comes to life out of the transfixed bewilderment with which he has been listening.

SIR CHARLES. For G.o.d's sake don't laugh like that!

[CLARE Stops]

LADY DEDMOND. [With real feeling] For the sake of the simple right, Clare!

CLARE. Right? Whatever else is right--our life is not. [She puts her hand on her heart] I swear before G.o.d that I've tried and tried.

I swear before G.o.d, that if I believed we could ever again love each other only a little tiny bit, I'd go back. I swear before G.o.d that I don't want to hurt anybody.

LADY DEDMOND. But you are hurting everybody. Do--do be reasonable!

CLARE. [Losing control] Can't you see that I'm fighting for all my life to come--not to be buried alive--not to be slowly smothered.

Look at me! I'm not wax--I'm flesh and blood. And you want to prison me for ever--body and soul.

[They stare at her]

SIR CHARLES. [Suddenly] By Jove! I don't know, I don't know!

What!

LADY DEDMOND. [To MALISE] If you have any decency left, sir, you will allow my son, at all events, to speak to his wife alone.

[Beckoning to her husband] We'll wait below.

SIR CHARLES. I--I want to speak. [To CLARE] My dear, if you feel like this, I can only say--as a--as a gentleman----

LADY DEDMOND. Charles!

SIR CHARLES. Let me alone! I can only say that--damme, I don't know that I can say anything!

He looks at her very grieved, then turns and marches out, followed by LADY DEDMOND, whose voice is heard without, answered by his: "What!" In the doorway, as they pa.s.s, GEORGE is standing; he comes in.

GEORGE. [Going up to CLARE, who has recovered all her self-control]

Will you come outside and speak to me?

CLARE. No.

GEORGE glances at MALISE, who is leaning against the wall with folded arms.

GEORGE. [In a low voice] Clare!

CLARE. Well!

GEORGE. You try me pretty high, don't you, forcing me to come here, and speak before this fellow? Most men would think the worst, finding you like this.