Plays By John Galsworthy - BestLightNovel.com
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CLARE. No, thank you.
PAYNTER. No, ma'am. Good-night, ma'am.
[He withdraws.]
GEORGE. You needn't have gone out of your way to tell a lie that wouldn't deceive a guinea-pig. [Going up to her] Pleased with yourself to-night? [CLARE shakes her head] Before that fellow MALISE; as if our own people weren't enough!
CLARE. Is it worth while to rag me? I know I've behaved badly, but I couldn't help it, really!
GEORGE. Couldn't help behaving like a shop-girl? My G.o.d! You were brought up as well as I was.
CLARE. Alas!
GEORGE. To let everybody see that we don't get on--there's only one word for it--Disgusting!
CLARE. I know.
GEORGE. Then why do you do it? I've always kept my end up. Why in heaven's name do you behave in this crazy way?
CLARE. I'm sorry.
GEORGE. [With intense feeling] You like making a fool of me!
CLARE. No--Really! Only--I must break out sometimes.
GEORGE. There are things one does not do.
CLARE. I came in because I was sorry.
GEORGE. And at once began to do it again! It seems to me you delight in rows.
CLARE. You'd miss your--reconciliations.
GEORGE. For G.o.d's sake, Clare, drop cynicism!
CLARE. And truth?
GEORGE. You are my wife, I suppose.
CLARE. And they twain shall be one--spirit.
GEORGE. Don't talk wild nonsense!
[There is silence.]
CLARE. [Softly] I don't give satisfaction. Please give me notice!
GEORGE. Pis.h.!.+
CLARE. Five years, and four of them like this! I'm sure we've served our time. Don't you really think we might get on better together--if I went away?
GEORGE. I've told you I won't stand a separation for no real reason, and have your name bandied about all over London. I have some primitive sense of honour.
CLARE. You mean your name, don't you?
GEORGE. Look here. Did that fellow Malise put all this into your head?
CLARE. No; my own evil nature.
GEORGE. I wish the deuce we'd never met him. Comes of picking up people you know nothing of. I distrust him--and his looks--and his infernal satiric way. He can't even 'dress decently. He's not--good form.
CLARE. [With a touch of rapture] Ah-h!
GEORGE. Why do you let him come? What d'you find interesting in him?
CLARE. A mind.
GEORGE. Deuced funny one! To have a mind--as you call it--it's not necessary to talk about Art and Literature.
CLARE. We don't.
GEORGE. Then what do you talk about--your minds? [CLARE looks at him] Will you answer a straight question? Is he falling in love with you?
CLARE. You had better ask him.
GEORGE. I tell you plainly, as a man of the world, I don't believe in the guide, philosopher and friend business.
CLARE. Thank you.
A silence. CLARE suddenly clasps her hands behind her head.
CLARE. Let me go! You'd be much happier with any other woman.
GEORGE. Clare!
CLARE. I believe--I'm sure I could earn my living. Quite serious.
GEORGE. Are you mad?
CLARE. It has been done.
GEORGE. It will never be done by you--understand that!
CLARE. It really is time we parted. I'd go clean out of your life.
I don't want your support unless I'm giving you something for your money.
GEORGE. Once for all, I don't mean to allow you to make fools of us both.
CLARE. But if we are already! Look at us. We go on, and on. We're a spectacle!
