CLARE. I can try.
[TWISDEN, looking at her, shrugs his shoulders]
CLARE. [Her composure a little broken by that look] It's real to me—this—you see!
SIR CHARLES. But, my dear girl, what the devil's to become of George?
CLARE. He can do what he likes—it's nothing to me.
TWISDEN. Mrs. Dedmond, I say without hesitation you've no notion of what you're faced with, brought up to a sheltered life as you've been. Do realize that you stand at the parting of the ways, and one leads into the wilderness.
CLARE. Which?
TWISDEN. [Glancing at the door through which MALISE has gone] Of course, if you want to play at wild asses there are plenty who will help you.
SIR CHARLES. By Gad! Yes!
CLARE. I only want to breathe.