Chloe.  But—­but Im not one.

Dawker.  You’ll be the mother of some, I shouldn’t wonder.

Chloe. [Stretching out her hand-pathetically] Oh! leave me alone, do!  I’m happy here.  Be a sport!  Be a sport!

Dawker. [Disconcerted for a second] You can’t get at me, so don’t try it on.

Chloe.  I had such a bad time in old days.

     [Dawker shakes his head; his grin has disappeared and his face
     is like wood.]

Chloe. [Panting] Ah! do!  You might!  You’ve been fond of some woman, I suppose.  Think of her!

Dawker. [Decisively] It won’t do, Mrs. Chloe.  You’re a pawn in the game, and I’m going to use you.

Chloe. [Despairingly] What is it to you? [With a sudden touch of the tigress] Look here!  Don’t you make an enemy, of me.  I haven’t dragged through hell for nothing.  Women like me can bite, I tell you.

Dawker.  That’s better.  I’d rather have a woman threaten than whine, any day.  Threaten away!  You’ll let ’em know that you met me in the Promenade one night.  Of course you’ll let ’em know that, won’t you?—­or that——­

Chloe.  Be quiet!  Oh!  Be quiet! [Taking from her bosom the notes and the pearls] Look!  There’s my savings—­there’s all I’ve got!  The pearls’ll fetch nearly a thousand. [Holding it out to him] Take it, and drop me out—­won’t you?  Won’t you?

Dawker. [Passing his tongue over his lips with a hard little laugh] You mistake your man, missis.  I’m a plain dog, if you like, but I’m faithful, and I hold fast.  Don’t try those games on me.

Chloe. [Losing control] You’re a beast!—­a beast! a cruel, cowardly beast!  And how dare you bribe that woman here to spy on me?  Oh! yes, you do; you know you do.  If you drove me mad, you wouldn’t care.  You beast!

Dawker.  Now, don’t carry on!  That won’t help you.

Chloe.  What d’you call it—­to dog a woman down like this, just because you happen to have a quarrel with a man?

Dawker.  Who made the quarrel?  Not me, missis.  You ought to know that in a row it’s the weak and helpless—­we won’t say the innocent —­that get it in the neck.  That can’t be helped.

Chloe. [Regarding him intently] I hope your mother or your sister, if you’ve got any, may go through what I’m going through ever since you got on my track.  I hope they’ll know what fear means.  I hope they’ll love and find out that it’s hanging on a thread, and—­and—­ Oh! you coward, you persecuting coward!  Call yourself a man!

Dawker. [With his grin] Ah!  You look quite pretty like that.  By George! you’re a handsome woman when you’re roused.

     [Chloe’s passion fades out as quickly as it blazed up.  She
     sinks down on the sofa, shudders, looks here and there, and
     then for a moment up at him.]