MRS. FULLARTON. Can you—can you keep him?
CLARE. Go!
MRS. FULLARTON. I'm going. But, men are hard to keep, even when you've not been the ruin of them. You know whether the love this man gives you is really love. If not—God help you! [She turns at the door, and says mournfully] Good-bye, my child! If you can——
Then goes. CLARE, almost in a whisper, repeats the words: "Love! you said!" At the sound of a latchkey she runs as if to escape into the bedroom, but changes her mind and stands blotted against the curtain of the door. MALISE enters. For a moment he does not see her standing there against the curtain that is much the same colour as her dress. His face is that of a man in the grip of a rage that he feels to be impotent. Then, seeing her, he pulls himself together, walks to his armchair, and sits down there in his hat and coat.
CLARE. Well? "The Watchfire?" You may as well tell me.
MALISE. Nothing to tell you, child.
At that touch of tenderness she goes up to his chair and kneels down beside it. Mechanically MALISE takes off his hat.
CLARE. Then you are to lose that, too? [MALISE stares at her] I know about it—never mind how.
MALISE. Sanctimonious dogs!
CLARE. [Very low] There are other things to be got, aren't there?