JULIA. That is what you really think me.
CHARTERIS. Come, Julia: you don't expect me to admire you for your moral qualities, do you? (She turns and looks hard at him. He starts up apprehensively and backs away from her. She rises and follows him up slowly and intently.)
JULIA (deliberately). I have seen you very much infatuated with this depraved creature who has no moral qualities.
CHARTERIS (retreating). Keep off, Julia. Remember your new obligations to Paramore.
JULIA (overtaking him in the middle of the room). Never mind Paramore: that is my business. (She grasps the lappels of his coat in her hands, and looks fixedly at him.) Oh, if the people you talk so cleverly to could only know you as I know you! Sometimes I wonder at myself for ever caring for you.
CHARTERIS (beaming at her). Only sometimes?
JULIA. You fraud! You humbug! You miserable little plaster saint! (He looks delighted.) Oh! (In a paroxysm half of rage, half of tenderness, she shakes him, growling over him like a tigress over her cub. Paramore and Craven at this moment return from the consulting room, and are thunderstruck at the spectacle.)
CRAVEN (shouting, utterly scandalized). Julia!! (Julia releases Charteris, but stands her ground disdainfully as they come forward, Craven on her left, Paramore on her right.)
PARAMORE. What's the matter?
CHARTERIS. Nothing, nothing. You'll soon get used to this, Paramore.