long ago.

HUNTINGDON. Well, what's to be done? If my pay would run to it--but
it simply won't.

CLARE. Thanks, old boy, of course not.

HUNTINGDON. Can't you try to see George's side of it a bit?

CLARE. I do. Oh! don't let's talk about it.

HUNTINGDON. Well, my child, there's just one thing you won't go
sailing near the wind, will you? I mean, there are fellows always on
the lookout.

CLARE. "That chap, Malise, you'd better avoid him!" Why?

HUNTINGDON. Well! I don't know him. He may be all right, but he's
not our sort. And you're too pretty to go on the tack of the New
Woman and that kind of thing--haven't been brought up to it.

CLARE. British home-made summer goods, light and attractive--don't
wear long. [At the sound of voices in the hall] They seem 'to be
going, Reggie.

[HUNTINGDON looks at her, vexed, unhappy.]

HUNTINGDON. Don't head for trouble, old girl. Take a pull. Bless
you! Good-night.