Paramore (sadly).  I am afraid you love him, for all that, Miss Craven.

Julia (raising her head instantly).  If he says that, he lies.  If ever you hear it said that I cared for him, contradict it:  it is false.

Paramore (quickly advancing to her).  Miss Craven:  is the way clear for me then?

Julia (pettishly—­losing interest in the conversation and looking crossly into the fire).  What do you mean?

Paramore (impetuously).  You must see what I mean.  Contradict the rumour of your attachment to Charteris, not by words—­it has gone too far for that—­but by becoming my wife. (Earnestly.) Believe me:  it is not merely your beauty that attracts me:  (Julia, interested, looks up at him quickly) I know other beautiful women.  It is your heart, your sincerity, your sterling reality, (Julia rises and gazes at him, breathless with a new hope) your great gifts of character that are only half developed because you have never been understood by those about you.

Julia (looking intently at him, and yet beginning to be derisively sceptical in spite of herself).  Have you really seen all that in me?

Paramore.  I have felt it.  I have been alone in the world; and I need you, Julia.  That is how I have divined that you, also, are alone in the world.

Julia (with theatrical pathos).  You are right there.  I am indeed alone in the world.

Paramore (timidly approaching her).  With you I should not be alone.  And you?—­with me?

Julia.  You! (She gets quickly out of his reach, taking refuge at the tea-table.) No, no.  I can’t bring myself—­ (She breaks off, perplexed, and looks uneasily about her.) Oh, I don’t know what to do.  You will expect too much from me. (She sits down.)

Paramore.  I have more faith in you than you have in yourself.  Your nature is richer than you think.

Julia (doubtfully).  Do you really believe that I am not the shallow, jealous, devilish tempered creature they all pretend I am?

Paramore.  I am ready to place my happiness in your hands.  Does that prove what I think of you?

Julia.  Yes:  I believe you really care for me. (He approaches her eagerly:  she has a violent revulsion, and rises with her hand raised as if to beat him off, crying) No, no, no, no.  I cannot.  It’s impossible. (She goes towards the door.)

Paramore (looking wistfully after her).  Is it Charteris?

Julia (stopping and turning).  Ah, you think that! (She comes back.) Listen to me.  If I say yes, will you promise not to touch me—­to give me time to accustom myself to the idea of our new relations?

Paramore.  I promise most faithfully.  I would not press you for the world.

Julia.  Then—­then—­yes:  I promise. (He is about to utter his rapture; she will not have it.) Now, not another word of it.  Let us forget it.  (She resumes her seat at the table.) Give me some more tea. (He hastens to his former seat.  As he passes, she puts her left hand on his arm and says) Be good to me, Percy, I need it sorely.