CLARE. Take care.
But MALISE, after one convulsive movement of his hands, has again become rigid.
GEORGE. I don't pretend to be subtle or that kind of thing; but I have ordinary common sense. I don't attempt to be superior to plain facts——
CLARE. [Under her breath] Facts!
GEORGE. Oh! for goodness' sake drop that hifalutin' tone. It doesn't suit you. Look here! If you like to go abroad with one of your young sisters until the autumn, I'll let the flat and go to the Club.
CLARE. Put the fire out with a penny hose. [Slowly] I am not coming back to you, George. The farce is over.
GEORGE. [Taken aback for a moment by the finality of her tone, suddenly fronts MALISE] Then there is something between you and this fellow.
MALISE. [Dangerously, but without moving] I beg your pardon!
CLARE. There—is—nothing.
GEORGE. [Looking from one to the other] At all events, I won't—I won't see a woman who once—[CLARE makes a sudden effacing movement with her hands] I won't see her go to certain ruin without lifting a finger.