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.
LADY DESMOND. That's morbid, Clare.
TWISDEN. What's open to you if you don't go back? Come, what's your
position? Neither fish, flesh, nor fowl; fair game for everybody.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42