MRS. FULLARTON. Oh! don't do anything desperate, Clare--you are so desperate sometimes. You ought to make terms--not tracks. CLARE. Haggle? [She shakes her head] What have I got to make terms with? What he still wants is just what I hate giving. MRS. FULLARTON. But, Clare---- CLARE. No, Dolly; even you don't understand. All day and every day --just as far apart as we can be--and still--Jolly, isn't it? If you've got a soul at all. MRS. FULLARTON. It's awful, really. CLARE. I suppose there are lots of women who feel as I do, and go on with it; only, you see, I happen to have something in me that--comes to an end. Can't endure beyond a certain time, ever. She has taken a flower from her dress, and suddenly tears it to bits. It is the only sign of emotion she has given. MRS. FULLARTON. [Watching] Look here, my child; this won't do. You must get a rest. Can't Reggie take you with him to India for a bit? CLARE. [Shaking her head] Reggie lives on his pay. MRS. FULLARTON. [With one of her quick looks] That was Mr. Malise, then? FULLARTON. [Coming towards them] I say, Mrs. Dedmond, you wouldn't sing me that little song you sang the other night, [He hums] "If I might be the falling bee and kiss thee all the day"? Remember? MRS. FULLARTON. "The falling dew," Edward. We simply must go, Clare. Good-night. [She kisses her.] FULLARTON. [Taking half-cover between his wife and CLARE] It suits you down to the ground-that dress. CLARE. Good-night. HUNTINGDON sees them out. Left alone CLARE clenches her hands, moves swiftly across to the window, and stands looking out. HUNTINGDON. [Returning] Look here, Clare! CLARE. Well, Reggie? HUNTINGDON. This is working up for a mess, old girl. You can't do this kind of thing with impunity. No man'll put up with it. If you've got anything against George, better tell me. [CLARE shakes her head] You ought to know I should stick by you. What is it? Come? CLARE. Get married, and find out after a year that she's the wrong person; so wrong that you can't exchange a single real thought; that your blood runs cold when she kisses you--then you'll know. HUNTINGDON. My dear old girl, I don't want to be a brute; but it's a bit difficult to believe in that, except in novels. CLARE. Yes, incredible, when you haven't tried. HUNTINGDON. I mean, you--you chose him yourself. No one forced you to marry him. CLARE. It does seem monstrous, doesn't it? HUNTINGDON. My dear child, do give us a reason. CLARE. Look! [She points out at the night and the darkening towers] If George saw that for the first time he'd just say, "Ah, Westminster! Clock Tower! Can you see the time by it?" As if one cared where or what it was--beautiful like that! Apply that to every --every--everything. HUNTINGDON. [Staring] George may be a bit prosaic. But, my dear old girl, if that's all----