)
JULIA (with a bitter half laugh, half sob). Well, I suppose I must do
what I am told. (She goes to the table, and looks for her bonnet. She
sees the yellow-backed French novel.) Ah, look at that! (holds it out
to him.) Look--look at what the creature reads--filthy, vile French
stuff that no decent woman would touch. And you--you have been reading
it with her.
CHARTERIS. You recommended that book to me yourself.
JULIA. Faugh! (Dashes it on the floor.)
CHARTERIS (running anxiously to the book). Don't damage property,
Julia. (He picks it up and dusts it.) Making scenes is an affair of
sentiment: damaging property is serious. (Replaces it on the table.)
And now do pray come along.
JULIA (implacably). You can go: there is nothing to prevent you. I
will not stir. (She sits down stubbornly on the sofa.)
CHARTERIS (losing patience). Oh come! I am not going to begin all this
over again. There are limits even to my forbearance. Come on.
JULIA. I will not, I tell you.
CHARTERIS. Then good night. (He makes resolutely for the door. With a
rush, she gets there before him, and bars his way.) I thought you
wanted me to go.
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