CLARE kisses him, and when he has gone turns away from the door,
holding herself in, refusing to give rein to some outburst of
emotion. Suddenly she sits down at the untouched Bridge table,
leaning her bare elbows on it and her chin on her hands, quite
calm. GEORGE is coming in. PAYNTER follows him.

CLARE. Nothing more wanted, thank you, Paynter. You can go home,
and the maids can go to bed.

PAYNTER. We are much obliged, ma'am.

CLARE. I ran over a dog, and had to get it seen to.

PAYNTER. Naturally, ma'am!

CLARE. Good-night.

PAYNTER. I couldn't get you a little anything, ma'am?

CLARE. No, thank you.

PAYNTER. No, ma'am. Good-night, ma'am.

[He withdraws.]

GEORGE. You needn't have gone out of your way to tell a lie that
wouldn't deceive a guinea-pig. [Going up to her] Pleased with
yourself to-night? [CLARE shakes her head] Before that fellow
MALISE; as if our own people weren't enough!