Allen, (_c._) It would be a change for thee, Clara--(_leans on table at back of Clara, puts hand on Clara’s chair_)--from a rough and troubled road to one where every stone wur smoothed away from your path---where every thorn wur held back as you passed--where, instead of care for the day and dread for the morrow, thee would feel that a strong arm wur round thee--that a loving hand wur working out thy life for thee. Cannot thee risk the change, Clara? Clara. (_Rises, Allen takes her right hand, turns away R._) Ah, I suppose there are such lives for some women. It must be very good when you are tired. (_Facing round to L.c._) And you, Allen--women do not always seem so charming after marriage as they did before. It might be a risk for you. Allen. To have the sweetest, noblest woman in the world to be my wife? I’ll risk that. (_Laughs, comes c._) Clara. (_Turning away again to R., Allen l.c._) Ah, you boys, you think all women are angels. Allen. So they are--a good woman is an angel. Clara. (_At Are, facing round and looking at him._) How do you know I am good? (_Very low and serious. Allen drops down c. A pause. He looks in surprise and inquiry at her, not knowing what to answer._) Clara. Hadn’t you better make sure, Allen? (_Laughing._) What do you know of my past--of even my present--of whence I came--what I am? (_Laughs._) Suppose, Allen, suppose I were only an adventuress. (_Takes a step._) A woman with the blood of sharpers and thieves in her veins--whose nursery was the gambling house--whose school was the Café and the Boulevards--a woman who earned her daily bread by shamelessness and cunning--a woman whose past would ever follow like a shadow the footsteps of her life--whose future must ever be a darker shadow still. Ah, Allen, take care. Cupid ties a bandage over men’s eyes. Hymen, when it is too late, plucks it off. Hadn’t you better lift a corner off the handkerchief, Allen, while we are yet upon the step without, lest beside your hearth, when the door has shut us in, you cast it loose, to find I am a stain upon your name--a shadow in your home--a blight upon your life? (_Laughing._) Allen, take care--take care. (_Crosses to l. Allen moves up a trifle._) Allen. (_Recovering from the bewilderment with which he has heard her._) Ah, it’s well for thee that it is thee, and not anyone else that talks like this about ’ee. Clara. Ah, but Allen, try and find out a little more about me; it’s just a whim of mine--I want to feel sure that you know me--just to please me. Allen. If I couldn’t trust thee--(_takes her hand_)--lass, I shouldn’t love thee.