GEORGE. I wish the deuce we'd never met him. Comes of picking up people you know nothing of. I distrust him--and his looks--and his infernal satiric way. He can't even 'dress decently. He's not--good form. CLARE. [With a touch of rapture] Ah-h! GEORGE. Why do you let him come? What d'you find interesting in him? CLARE. A mind. GEORGE. Deuced funny one! To have a mind--as you call it--it's not necessary to talk about Art and Literature. CLARE. We don't. GEORGE. Then what do you talk about--your minds? [CLARE looks at him] Will you answer a straight question? Is he falling in love with you? CLARE. You had better ask him. GEORGE. I tell you plainly, as a man of the world, I don't believe in the guide, philosopher and friend business. CLARE. Thank you. A silence. CLARE suddenly clasps her hands behind her head. CLARE. Let me go! You'd be much happier with any other woman. GEORGE. Clare! CLARE. I believe--I'm sure I could earn my living. Quite serious. GEORGE. Are you mad? CLARE. It has been done. GEORGE. It will never be done by you--understand that! CLARE. It really is time we parted. I'd go clean out of your life. I don't want your support unless I'm giving you something for your money. GEORGE. Once for all, I don't mean to allow you to make fools of us both. CLARE. But if we are already! Look at us. We go on, and on. We're a spectacle! GEORGE. That's not my opinion; nor the opinion of anyone, so long as you behave yourself. 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.