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 pass, 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.

Clare.  You need not have come—­or thought at all.

George.  Did you imagine I was going to let you vanish without an effort——­

Clare.  To save me?

George.  For God’s sake be just!  I’ve come here to say certain things.  If you force me to say them before him—­on your head be it!  Will you appoint somewhere else?

Clare.  No.

George.  Why not?

Clare.  I know all those “certain things.”  “You must come back.  It is your duty.  You have no money.  Your friends won’t help you.  You can’t earn your living.  You are making a scandal.”  You might even say for the moment:  “Your room shall be respected.”

George.  Well, it’s true and you’ve no answer.

Clare.  Oh! [Suddenly] Our life’s a lie.  It’s stupid; it’s disgusting.  I’m tired of it!  Please leave me alone!

George.  You rather miss the point, I’m afraid.  I didn’t come here to tell you what you know perfectly well when you’re sane.  I came here to say this:  Anyone in her senses could see the game your friend here is playing.  It wouldn’t take a baby in.  If you think that a gentleman like that [His stare travels round the dishevelled room till it rests on Malise] champions a pretty woman for nothing, you make a fairly bad mistake.