first sight by the people in the street as you pass. Why, in the club I can tell by the faces of the men whether you have been lately in the room or not.
JULIA (shrinking fiercely). Oh, I hate that look in their faces. Do you know that I have never had one human being care for me since I was born?
PARAMORE. That’s not true, Miss Craven. Even if it were true of your father, and of Charteris, who loves you madly in spite of your dislike for him, it is not true of me.
JULIA (startled). Who told you that about Charteris?
PARAMORE. Why, he himself.
JULIA (with deep, poignant conviction). He cares for only one person in the world; and that is himself. There is not in his whole nature one unselfish spot. He would not spend one hour of his real life with — (a sob chokes her: she rises passionately, crying) You are all alike, every one of you. Even my father only makes a pet of me. (She goes away to the fireplace and stands with her back to him.)
PARAMORE (following her humbly). I don’t deserve this from you: indeed I do not.
JULIA (rating him). Then why do you talk about me with Charteris, behind my back?
PARAMORE. We said nothing disparaging of you. Nobody shall ever do that in my presence. We spoke of the subject nearest our hearts.
JULIA. His heart! Oh, God, his heart! (She sits down on the couch and hides her face.)
PARAMORE (sadly). I am afraid you love him, for all that, Miss Craven.
JULIA (raising her head instantly). If he says that, he lies. If ever you hear it said that I cared for him, contradict it: it is false.
PARAMORE (quickly advancing to her). Miss Craven: is the way clear for me then?
JULIA (pettishly — losing interest in the conversation and looking crossly into the fire). What do you mean?
PARAMORE (impetuously). You must see what I mean. Contradict the rumour of your attachment to Charteris, not by words — it has gone too far for that — but by becoming my wife. (Earnestly.) Believe me: it is not merely your beauty that attracts me: (Julia, interested, looks up at him quickly) I know other beautiful women. It is your heart, your sincerity, your sterling reality, (Julia rises and gazes at him, breathless with a new hope) your great gifts of character that are only half developed because you have never been understood by those about you.
JULIA (looking intently at him, and yet beginning to be derisively sceptical in spite of herself). Have you really seen all that in me?
PARAMORE. I have felt it. I have been alone in the world; and I need you, Julia. That is how I have divined that you, also, are alone in the world.
JULIA (with theatrical pathos). You are right there. I am indeed alone in the world.
PARAMORE (timidly approaching her). With you I should not be alone. And you? — with me?
JULIA. You! (She gets quickly out of his reach, taking refuge at the tea-table.) No, no. I can’t bring myself — (She breaks off, perplexed, and looks uneasily about her.) Oh, I don’t know what to do. You will expect too much from me. (She sits down.)
PARAMORE. I have more faith in you than you have in yourself. Your nature is richer than you think.
JULIA (doubtfully). Do you really believe that I am not the shallow, jealous, devilish tempered creature they all pretend I am?
PARAMORE. I am ready to place my happiness in your hands. Does that prove what I think of you?
JULIA. Yes: I believe you really care for me. (He approaches her eagerly: she has a violent revulsion, and rises with her hand raised as if to beat him off, crying) No, no, no, no. I cannot. It’s impossible. (She goes towards the door.)
PARAMORE (looking wistfully after her). Is it Charteris?
JULIA (stopping and turning). Ah, you think that! (She comes back.) Listen to me. If I say yes, will you promise not to touch me — to give me time to accustom myself to the idea of our new relations?
PARAMORE. I promise most faithfully. I would not press you for the world.
JULIA. Then — then — yes: I promise. (He is about to utter his rapture; she will not have it.) Now, not another word of it. Let us forget it. (She resumes her seat at the table.) Give me some more tea. (He hastens to his former seat. As he passes, she puts her left hand on his arm and says) Be good to me, Percy, I need it sorely.
PARAMORE (transported). You have called me Percy! Hurrah! (Charteris and Craven come in. Paramore hastens to meet them, beaming.) Delighted to see you here with me, Colonel Craven. And you, too, Charteris. Sit down. (The Colonel sits down on the end of the couch.) Where are the others?
CHARTERIS. Sylvia has dragged Cuthbertson off into the Burlington Arcade to buy some caramels. He likes to encourage her in eating caramels: he thinks it’s a womanly taste. Besides, he likes them himself. They’ll be here presently. (He strolls across to the cabinet and pretends to study the Rembrandt photograph, so as to be as far out of Julia’s reach as possible.)
CRAVEN. Yes; and Charteris has been trying to persuade me that there’s a short cut between Cork Street and Savile Row somewhere in Conduit Street. Now did you ever hear such nonsense? Then he said my coat was getting shabby, and wanted me to go into Poole’s and order a new one. Paramore: is my coat shabby?
PARAMORE. Not that I can see.
CRAVEN. I should think not. Then he wanted to draw me into a dispute about the Egyptian war. We should have been here quarter of an hour ago only for his nonsense.
CHARTERIS (still contemplating Rembrandt). I did my best to keep him from disturbing you, Paramore.
PARAMORE (gratefully). You have come in the nick of time. Colonel Craven: I have something very particular to say to you.
CRAVEN (springing up in alarm). In private, Paramore: now really it must be in private.
PARAMORE (surprised). Of course. I was about to suggest my consulting room: there’s nobody there. Miss Craven: will you excuse me: Charteris will entertain you until I return. (He leads the way to the green baize door.)
CHARTERIS (aghast). Oh, I say, hadn’t you better wait until the others come?
PARAMORE (exultant). No need for further delay now, my best friend. (He wrings Charteris’s hand.) Will you come, Colonel?
CRAVEN. At your service, Paramore: at your service. (Craven and Paramore go into the consulting room. Julia turns her head and stares insolently at Charteris. His nerves play him false: he is completely out of countenance in a moment. She rises suddenly. He starts, and comes hastily forward between the table and the bookcase. She crosses to that side behind the table; and he immediately crosses to the opposite side in front of it, dodging her.)
CHARTERIS (nervously). Don’t, Julia. Now don’t abuse your advantage. You’ve got me here at your mercy. Be good for once; and don’t make a scene.
JULIA (contemptuously). Do you suppose I am going to touch you?
CHARTERIS. No. Of course not. (She comes forward on her side of the table. He retreats on his side of it. She looks at him with utter scorn; sweeps across
