CLARE. That is--behave as you think right. GEORGE. Clare, you're pretty riling. CLARE. I don't want to be horrid. But I am in earnest this time. GEORGE. So am I. [CLARE turns to the curtained door.] GEORGE. Look here! I'm sorry. God knows I don't want to be a brute. I know you're not happy. CLARE. And you--are you happy? GEORGE. I don't say I am. But why can't we be? CLARE. I see no reason, except that you are you, and I am I. GEORGE. We can try. CLARE. I HAVE--haven't you? GEORGE. We used---- CLARE. I wonder! GEORGE. You know we did. CLARE. Too long ago--if ever. GEORGE [Coming closer] I--still---- CLARE. [Making a barrier of her hand] You know that's only cupboard love. GEORGE. We've got to face the facts. CLARE. I thought I was. GEORGE. The facts are that we're married--for better or worse, and certain things are expected of us. It's suicide for you, and folly for me, in my position, to ignore that. You have all you can reasonably want; and I don't--don't wish for any change. If you could bring anything against me--if I drank, or knocked about town, or expected too much of you. I'm not unreasonable in any way, that I can see. CLARE. Well, I think we've talked enough. [She again moves towards the curtained door.] GEORGE. Look here, Clare; you don't mean you're expecting me to put up with the position of a man who's neither married nor unmarried? That's simple purgatory. You ought to know. CLARE. Yes. I haven't yet, have I? GEORGE. Don't go like that! Do you suppose we're the only couple who've found things aren't what they thought, and have to put up with each other and make the best of it. CLARE. Not by thousands. GEORGE. Well, why do you imagine they do it? CLARE. I don't know. GEORGE. From a common sense of decency. CLARE. Very! GEORGE. By Jove! You can be the most maddening thing in all the world! [Taking up a pack of cards, he lets them fall with a long slithering flutter] After behaving as you have this evening, you might try to make some amends, I should think. CLARE moves her head from side to side, as if in sight of something she could not avoid. He puts his hand on her arm. CLARE. No, no--no! GEORGE. [Dropping his hand] Can't you make it up? CLARE. I don't feel very Christian.