The hooks?... I—I beg your pardon.... (He goes on with his work for a time in silence.) Are you angry with me?
Clare.
I don’t know.
Michael.
You must have known for some time that I loved you.
Clare.
(Turning on him.) Then why do you always annoy me by making love to—to your wife when I’m there? (Michael still kneels on the cushion, looking up at her with abject eyes.) Why don’t you speak?
Michael.
Clare——