(After a pause, going up to him.) Michael, how long have you loved me?
Michael.
Almost since first I met you, you wild thing! You soul of youth and incarnation of the morning!
(He looks longingly down at her.)
Clare.
Oh, you poor old thing! (She looks up sideways at him.) Mike, you may if you like.
Michael.
Clare....
(He hesitates.)
Clare.