Maud. You did right—come with us! To live with him now would be impossible. Strike you—he did more—he tried to kill you—your soul. He wanted you to go—he knew what he was saying and how it would affect you. How you must have suffered before the final crash of last night came!
Camele. Yes, and no, again. I don’t believe that I hate him half as much now as I did last evening.
Maud. Camele, he has spoiled you completely. To hear you say that, after what has happened between you, horrifies me.
Camele. You were never married.
Maud. Meat! Meat!
Yvonne. Come, have some tea. Come, Camele.
(Maude and Camele, arm in arm, move towards the tea table, while George, followed by Alice, comes and sits on the couch. The others sit around the table.)
George. Why do you insist on following me? Stay with the girls over there—hear the joys of married life.
Alice. Joys—I am more interested in knowing why you did not come to see me, as you promised last night?
George. I didn’t promise—I said “probably.”