Oh, you feel as free of me as that, do you? It suits me all right. So (meaningly) that toothache of yours the other day was a false alarm?
Clara.
Oh, Leonard, you’d no right to do it!
Leonard.
No right to bind what is dearest to me—yourself—by the last bond of all? And just when I stood in danger of losing it! Do you think I didn’t see you exchanging quiet glances with the secretary? That was a nice holiday for me! I take you to a dance and——
Clara.
You never stop worrying me. I looked at him, of course. Why should I deny it? but only because of the moustache he’s grown at college. It——(she breaks off).
Leonard.
Suits him so well, eh? That’s what you mean. Oh, you women! You like the mark of the soldier even in the silliest caricature. The little round-faced fop—I hate him! I don’t conceal it; he’s stood in my way with you long enough;—with that forest of hair in the middle of his face, he looks like a white rabbit trying to hide in a thicket.
Clara.