Clare.  Thank you.  Do you think you quite grasp the alternative?

Twisden. [Taken aback] But, my dear young lady, there are two sides to every contract.  After all, your husband’s fulfilled his.

Clare.  So have I up till now.  I shan’t ask anything from him—­ nothing—­do you understand?

Lady Dedmond.  But, my dear, you must live.

Twisden.  Have you ever done any sort of work?

Clare.  Not yet.

Twisden.  Any conception of the competition nowadays?

Clare.  I can try.

     [Twisden, looking at her, shrugs his shoulders]

Clare. [Her composure a little broken by that look] It’s real to me—­this—­you see!

Sir Charles.  But, my dear girl, what the devil’s to become of
George?

Clare.  He can do what he likes—­it’s nothing to me.

Twisden.  Mrs. Dedmond, I say without hesitation you’ve no notion of what you’re faced with, brought up to a sheltered life as you’ve been.  Do realize that you stand at the parting of the ways, and one leads into the wilderness.

Clare.  Which?

Twisden. [Glancing at the door through which Malise has gone] Of course, if you want to play at wild asses there are plenty who will help you.

Sir Charles.  By Gad!  Yes!

Clare.  I only want to breathe.

Twisden.  Mrs. Dedmond, go back!  You can now.  It will be too late soon.  There are lots of wolves about. [Again he looks at the door]

Clare.  But not where you think.  You say I need advice.  I came here for it.

Twisden. [With a curiously expressive shrug] In that case I don’t know that I can usefully stay.

     [He goes to the outer door.]

Clare.  Please don’t have me followed when I leave here.  Please!

Lady Dedmond.  George is outside, Clare.

Clare.  I don’t wish to see him.  By what right have you come here? [She goes to the door through which Malise has passed, opens it, and says] Please come in, Mr. Malise.

     [Malise enters.]

Twisden.  I am sorry. [Glancing at Malise, he inclines his head] I am sorry.  Good morning. [He goes]

Lady Dedmond.  Mr. Malise, I’m sure, will see——­

Clare.  Mr. Malise will stay here, please, in his own room.

     [Malise bows]

Sir Charles.  My dear girl, ’pon my soul, you know, I can’t grasp your line of thought at all!

Clare.  No?

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

Clare.  Ah!