Mrs. Denham.
If my husband does not love me, let him leave me. (_Crosses
C._)
Miss Macfarlane.
Fiddlesticks, my dear; don't go in for heroics. Of course he loves
you. Does it follow he can't love another woman into the bargain?
They think they can, at any rate.
Mrs. Denham.
I don't care for such love.
Miss Macfarlane.
Of course not. But in this world we must make sure of what we can
grab; and then we can grab a bit more, and a bit more, maybe.
Mrs. Denham.
I can trust my husband.
Miss Macfarlane.
(_coming to Mrs. Denham_) Right; but don't trust him into
temptation. Mind you, she's charming. Men haven't been flogged into
constancy, as we have. Remember that. I'm not old-maidish, my dear,
though I've escaped holy matrimony. I don't profess hatred of men,
they're none so much worse than we are; but they're different,
and--pardon my strong language--they're damnably brought up. (_They
go up stage towards door._) Beware of that woman, I tell ye. Don't
let her get a footing here. And now, give me some tea.
ACT DROP.
Act II.
_Scene: The Studio. Denham discovered at easel near the front
R, a small table with colours, etc.
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