Cray. Momentary irritation—regretted it d'rectly!
Car. (returns paper to window) We parted that night. The place was sold up, and I didn't hear of you again till you commenced proceedings for our divorce. (he moves chair and faces her) Then I went to Bob. He offered to see me through—engage counsel and all that. It would have been easy to smash your case, (crosses and stands over him) but that would have left me tied to you; so I asked him if he would join me in making no defence. He pointed out what society would think of me. I said I knew enough of society to care nothing for its bad opinion. He did as I wished, so you got your decree nisi and the sympathy of the public. (crosses to top of table again)
Cray. All this is beastly 'fensive. (leans limply over back of chair)
Car. My only problem was how to live. I couldn't teach or make dresses or typewrite. There was only one thing I could do properly—I could cook. It was always a fad of mine. I used often to prepare little dishes for my father—in the old days—and while I was trying to see my way, I met Millicent Sturton. I told her everything, and asked her to help me. She had influence with these good people—so I resumed my own name and became the vicar's cook. (pause; Cook has gradually crossed L. again. Crayll moves chair back to table and drinks) Now you understand everything! I'll say good-bye. I'm likely to be rather busy this evening.
Cray. Don't say goo'bye. I wan' you to come back. My 'ntentions are disin'ersted. Won't you come back?
Car. (stands with hands behind her back) Not while there's a crossing to be swept—or a box of matches to be sold.
Cray. (rising unsteadily—leaning over table) S'pose I was to—give th' show away—d'you think they'd keep a woman like you—a woman who was n'torious?
Car. No!
Cray. Very well, then I can squash you. Word from me'd sweep you into the gutter—an' if you don' come back—I'll do it. I'll show you what comes of r'fusin' disin'ested offer. (she laughs and shrugs her shoulders) Don' laugh at me, you fool! I'll do it! I'll drag you off your damned high horse, I'll—I'll—(raises his arm to strike her)