HUNTINGDON. [Returning] Look here, Clare!
CLARE. Well, Reggie?
HUNTINGDON. This is working up for a mess, old girl. You can't do this kind of thing with impunity. No man'll put up with it. If you've got anything against George, better tell me. [CLARE shakes her head] You ought to know I should stick by you. What is it? Come?
CLARE. Get married, and find out after a year that she's the wrong person; so wrong that you can't exchange a single real thought; that your blood runs cold when she kisses you—then you'll know.
HUNTINGDON. My dear old girl, I don't want to be a brute; but it's a bit difficult to believe in that, except in novels.
CLARE. Yes, incredible, when you haven't tried.
HUNTINGDON. I mean, you—you chose him yourself. No one forced you to marry him.
CLARE. It does seem monstrous, doesn't it?
HUNTINGDON. My dear child, do give us a reason.
CLARE. Look! [She points out at the night and the darkening towers] If George saw that for the first time he'd just say, "Ah, Westminster! Clock Tower! Can you see the time by it?" As if one cared where or what it was—beautiful like that! Apply that to every —every—everything.