JULIA. Leonard: have you no pity?

CHARTERIS. Not in the least. When you condescend to these antics you
force me to despise you. How can a woman who behaves like a spoiled
child and talks like a sentimental novel have the audacity to dream of
being a companion for a man of any sort of sense or character? (She
gives an inarticulate cry and throws herself sobbing on his breast.)
Come, don't cry, my dear Julia: you don't look half so beautiful as
when you're happy; and it takes all the starch out of my shirt front.
Come along.

JULIA (affectionately). I'll come, dear, if you wish it. Give me one
kiss.

CHARTERIS (exasperated). This is too much. No: I'm dashed if I will.
Here, let me go, Julia. (She clings to him.) Will you come without
another word if I give you a kiss?

JULIA. I will do anything you wish, darling.

CHARTERIS. Well, here. (He takes her in his arms and gives her an
unceremonious kiss.) Now remember your promise. Come along.

JULIA. That was not a nice kiss, dearest. I want one of our old real
kisses.

CHARTERIS (furious). Oh, go to the deuce. (He disengages himself
impulsively; and she, as if he had flung her down, falls pathetically
with a stifled moan. With an angry look at her, he strides out and
slams the door. She raises herself on one hand, listening to his