[CHLOE buries her face in her hands.]
There! Keep your pecker up; don't cry. Good-night! [He goes through the window.]
CHLOE. [Springing up] Ugh! Rat in a trap! Rat——!
[She stands listening; flies to the door, unlocks it, and, going back to the sofa, lies down and doses her eyes. CHARLES comes in very quietly and stands over her, looking to see if she is asleep. She opens her eyes.]
CHARLES. Well, Clo! Had a sleep, old girl?
CHLOE. Ye-es.
CHARLES. [Sitting on the arm of the sofa and caressing her] Feel better, dear?
CHLOE. Yes, better, Charlie.
CHARLES. That's right. Would you like some soup?
CHLOE. [With a shudder] No.