the situation after all). I shall recover: such wounds heal more than
they harm. After all, I still have my own Gloria.

GLORIA (facing him quickly). What do you mean?

VALENTINE. The Gloria of my imagination.

GLORIA (proudly). Keep your own Gloria---the Gloria of your
imagination. (Her emotion begins to break through her pride.) The real
Gloria---the Gloria who was shocked, offended, horrified---oh, yes,
quite truly---who was driven almost mad with shame by the feeling that
all her power over herself had been broken down at her first real
encounter with---with--- (The color rushes over her face again. She
covers it with her left hand, and puts her right on his left arm to
support herself.)

VALENTINE. Take care. I'm losing my senses again. (Summoning all
her courage, she takes away her hand from her face and puts it on his
right shoulder, turning him towards her and looking him straight in the
eyes. He begins to protest agitatedly.) Gloria: be sensible: it's no
use: I haven't a penny in the world.

GLORIA. Can't you earn one? Other people do.

VALENTINE (half delighted, half frightened). I never could---you'd
be unhappy--- My dearest love: I should be the merest fortune-hunting
adventurer if--- (Her grip on his arms tightens; and she kisses him.)
Oh, Lord! (Breathless.) Oh, I--- (He gasps.) I don't know anything
about women: twelve years' experience is not enough. (In a gust of
jealousy she throws him away from her; and he reels her back into the