MALISE. [Opening the door of the inner room] Mrs. Miler, just see who it is; and then go, for the present. MRS. MILER comes out with her hat on, passes enigmatically to the door, and opens it. A man's voice says: "Mr. Malise? Would you give him these cards?" MRS. MILER. [Re-entering] The cards. MALISE. Mr. Robert Twisden. Sir Charles and Lady Dedmond. [He looks at CLARE.] CLARE. [Her face scornful and unmoved] Let them come. MALISE. [TO MRS. MILER] Show them in! TWISDEN enters-a clean-shaved, shrewd-looking man, with a fighting underlip, followed by SIR CHARLES and LADY DEDMOND. MRS. MILER goes. There are no greetings. TWISDEN. Mr. Malise? How do you do, Mrs. Dedmond? Had the pleasure of meeting you at your wedding. [CLARE inclines her head] I am Mr. George Dedmond's solicitor, sir. I wonder if you would be so very kind as to let us have a few words with Mrs. Dedmond alone? At a nod from CLARE, MALISE passes into the inner room, and shuts the door. A silence. SIR CHARLES. [Suddenly] What! LADY DEDMOND. Mr. Twisden, will you----? TWISDEN. [Uneasy] Mrs. Dedmond I must apologize, but you--you hardly gave us an alternative, did you? [He pauses for an answer, and, not getting one, goes on] Your disappearance has given your husband great anxiety. Really, my dear madam, you must forgive us for this--attempt to get into communication. CLARE. Why did you spy, HERE? SIR CHARLES. No, no! Nobody's spied on you. What! TWISDEN. I'm afraid the answer is that we appear to have been justified. [At the expression on CLARE'S face he goes on hastily] Now, Mrs. Dedmond, I'm a lawyer and I know that appearances are misleading. Don't think I'm unfriendly; I wish you well. [CLARE raises her eyes. Moved by that look, which is exactly as if she had said: "I have no friends," he hurries on] What we want to say to you is this: Don't let this split go on! Don't commit yourself to what you'll bitterly regret. Just tell us what's the matter. I'm sure it can be put straight. CLARE. I have nothing against my husband--it was quite unreasonable to leave him. TWISDEN. Come, that's good. CLARE. Unfortunately, there's something stronger than reason. TWISDEN. I don't know it, Mrs. Dedmond. CLARE. No? TWISDEN. [Disconcerted] Are you--you oughtn't to take a step without advice, in your position. CLARE. Nor with it? TWISDEN. [Approaching her] Come, now; isn't there anything you feel you'd like to say--that might help to put matters straight? CLARE. I don't think so, thank you. LADY DEDMOND. You must see, Clare, that---- TWISDEN. In your position, Mrs. Dedmond--a beautiful young woman without money. I'm quite blunt. This is a hard world. Should be awfully sorry if anything goes wrong. CLARE. And if I go back? TWISDEN. Of two evils, if it be so--choose the least! CLARE. I am twenty-six; he is thirty-two. We can't reasonably expect to die for fifty years.