ive my saying so--remarkably Quixotic--is
made to save the scandal to his family and your own. It binds you to
nothing but the abandonment of your present companion, with certain
conditions of the same nature as to the future. In other words, it
assures you a position--so long as you live quietly by yourself.

CLARE. I see. Will you please thank Mr. Dedmond, and say that I
refuse?

MRS. FULLARTON. Clare, Clare! For God's sake don't be desperate.

[CLARE, deathly still, just looks at her]

TWISDEN. Mrs. Dedmond, I am bound to put the position to you in its
naked brutality. You know there's a claim for damages?

CLARE. I have just learnt it.

TWISDEN. You realize what the result of this suit must be: You will
be left dependent on an undischarged bankrupt. To put it another
way, you'll be a stone round the neck of a drowning man.

CLARE. You are cowards.

MRS. FULLARTON. Clare, Clare! [To TWISDEN] She doesn't mean it;
please be patient.

CLARE. I do mean it. You ruin him because of me. You get him down,
and kick him to intimidate me.

MRS. FULLARTON. My dear girl! Mr. Twisden is not personally
concerned. How can you?

CLARE. If I were dying, and it would save me, I wouldn't take a
penny from my husband.

TWISDEN. Nothing could be more bitter than those words. Do you
really wish me to take them back to him?

CLARE. Yes. [She turns from them to the fire]

MRS. FULLARTON. [In a low voice to TWISDEN] Please leave me alone
with her, don't say anything to Mr. Dedmond yet.

TWISDEN. Mrs. Dedmond, I told you once that I wished you well.
Though you have called me a coward, I still do that. For God's sake,
think--before it's too late.

CLARE. [Putting out her hand blindly] I'm sorry I called you a
coward. It's the whole thing, I meant.

TWISDEN. Never mind that. Think!

With the curious little movement of one who sees something he
does not like to see, he goes. CLARE is leaning her forehead
against the mantel-shelf, seemingly unconscious that she is not
alone. MRS. FULLARTON approaches quietly till she can see
CLARE'S face.

MRS. FULLARTON. My dear sweet thing, don't be cross with met [CLARE
turns from her. It is all the time as if she were trying to get away
from words and people to something going on within herself] How can
I help wanting to see you saved from all this ghastliness?

CLARE. Please don't, Dolly! Let me be!

MRS. FULL