CLARE. No, I don't; really.
YOUNG MAN. Are you absolute stoney? [CLARE nods] But [Looking at
her frock and cloak] you're so awfully well----
CLARE. I had the sense to keep them.
YOUNG MAN. [More and more disturbed] I say, you know--I wish you'd
let me lend you something. I had quite a good day down there.
CLARE. [Again tracing her pattern on the cloth--then looking up at
him full] I can't take, for nothing.
YOUNG MAN. By Jove! I don't know-really, I don't--this makes me
feel pretty rotten. I mean, it's your being a lady.
CLARE. [Smiling] That's not your fault, is it? You see, I've been
beaten all along the line. And I really don't care what happens to
me. [She has that peculiar fey look on her face now] I really
don't; except that I don't take charity. It's lucky for me it's you,
and not some----
The supper-party is getting still more boisterous, and there comes a
long view holloa, and a blast of the horn.
YOUNG MAN. But I say, what about your people? You must have people
of some sort.
He is fast becoming fascinated, for her cheeks have begun to
flush and her eyes to shine.
CLARE. Oh, yes; I've had people, and a husband, and--everything----
And here I am! Queer, isn't it? [She touches her glass] This is
going to my head! Do you mind? I sha'n't sing songs and get up and
dance, and I won't cry, I promise you!
YOUNG MAN. [Between fascination and chivalry] By George! One
simply can't believe in this happening to a lady.
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