CHLOE. But--but Im not one.

DAWKER. You'll be the mother of some, I shouldn't wonder.

CHLOE. [Stretching out her hand-pathetically] Oh! leave me alone,
do! I'm happy here. Be a sport! Be a sport!

DAWKER. [Disconcerted for a second] You can't get at me, so don't
try it on.

CHLOE. I had such a bad time in old days.

[DAWKER shakes his head; his grin has disappeared and his face
is like wood.]

CHLOE. [Panting] Ah! do! You might! You've been fond of some
woman, I suppose. Think of her!

DAWKER. [Decisively] It won't do, Mrs. Chloe. You're a pawn in
the game, and I'm going to use you.

CHLOE. [Despairingly] What is it to you? [With a sudden touch of
the tigress] Look here! Don't you make an enemy, of me. I haven't
dragged through hell for nothing. Women like me can bite, I tell
you.

DAWKER. That's better. I'd rather have a woman threaten than
whine, any day. Threaten away! You'll let 'em know that you met me
in the Promenade one night. Of course you'll let 'em know that,
won't you?--or that----