CLARE. I suppose there are lots of women who feel as I do, and go on with it; only, you see, I happen to have something in me that—comes to an end. Can't endure beyond a certain time, ever.
She has taken a flower from her dress, and suddenly tears it to bits. It is the only sign of emotion she has given.
MRS. FULLARTON. [Watching] Look here, my child; this won't do. You must get a rest. Can't Reggie take you with him to India for a bit?
CLARE. [Shaking her head] Reggie lives on his pay.
MRS. FULLARTON. [With one of her quick looks] That was Mr. Malise, then?
FULLARTON. [Coming towards them] I say, Mrs. Dedmond, you wouldn't sing me that little song you sang the other night, [He hums] "If I might be the falling bee and kiss thee all the day"? Remember?
MRS. FULLARTON. "The falling dew," Edward. We simply must go, Clare. Good-night. [She kisses her.]
FULLARTON. [Taking half-cover between his wife and CLARE] It suits you down to the ground-that dress.
CLARE. Good-night.
HUNTINGDON sees them out. Left alone CLARE clenches her hands, moves swiftly across to the window, and stands looking out.