hat?

CLARE. [Hardly above a whisper] Because--if you still wanted me--
I do--now.

[Etext editors note: In the 1924 revision, 11 years after this
1913 edition: "I do--now" is changed to "I could--now"--
a significant change in meaning. D.W.]

MALISE. [Staring hard into her face that is quivering and smiling]
You mean it? You do? You care----?

CLARE. I've thought of you--so much! But only--if you're sure.

He clasps her and kisses her closed eyes; and so they stand for
a moment, till the sound of a latchkey in the door sends them
apart.

MALISE. It's the housekeeper. Give me that ticket; I'll send for
your things.

Obediently she gives him the ticket, smiles, and goes quietly
into the inner room. MRS. MILER has entered; her face, more
Chinese than ever, shows no sign of having seen.

MALISE. That lady will stay here, Mrs. Miler. Kindly go with this
ticket to the cloak-room at Charing Cross station, and bring back her
luggage in a cab. Have you money?

MRS. MILER. 'Arf a crown. [She takes the ticket--then impassively]
In case you don't know--there's two o' them men about the stairs now.

The moment she is gone MALISE makes a gesture of maniacal fury.
He steals on tiptoe to the outer door, and listens. Then,
placing his hand on the knob, he turns it without noise, and
wrenches back the door. Transfigured in the last sunlight
streaming down the corridor are two men, close together,
listening and consulting secretly. They start back.

MALISE. [With strange, almost noiseless ferocity] You've run her to
earth; your job's done. Kennel up, hounds! [And in their faces he
slams the door]

CURTAIN.

SCENE II

SCENE II--The same, early on a winter afternoon, three months later.
The room has now a certain daintiness. There are curtains over the
doors, a couch, under the window, all the books are arranged on
shelves. In small vases, over the fireplace, are a few violets and
chrysanthemums. MALISE sits huddled in his armchair drawn close to
the fore, paper on knee, pen in hand. He looks rather grey and
drawn, and round his chair is the usual litter. At the table, now
nearer to the window, CLARE sits working a typewriter. She finishes
a line, puts sheets of paper together, makes a note on a card--adds
some figures, and marks the total.

CLARE. Kenneth, when this is paid,