She's like that.
HARRY: I've always been pleased, Anthony, at the way you've worked with
Miss Claire. This is hardly the time to stand there eulogizing her. And
she's (_can hardly say it_) things you don't know she is.
ANTHONY: (_proudly_) Oh, I know that! You think I could work with her
and not know she's more than I know she is?
HARRY: Well, if you love her you've got to let me shoot the dirty dog
that drags her down!
ANTHONY: Not in here. Not today. More than like you'd break the glass.
And Breath of Life's in there.
HARRY: Anthony, this is pretty clever of you--but--
ANTHONY: I'm not clever. But I know how easy it is to turn life back.
No, I'm not clever at all (CLAIRE _has appeared and is looking in from
outside_), but I do know--there are things you mustn't hurt, (_he sees
her_) Yes, here's Miss Claire.
(_She comes in. She is looking immaculate._)
CLAIRE: From the gutter I rise again, refreshed. One does, you know.
Nothing is fixed--not even the gutter, (_smilingly to_ HARRY _and
refusing to notice revolver or agitation_) How did you like the way I
entertained the nerve specialist?
HARRY: Claire! You can _joke_ about it?
CLAIRE: (_taking the revolver from the hand she has shocked to
limpness_) Whom are you trying to make hear?
HARRY: I'm trying to make the world hear that (_pointing_) there stands
a dirty dog who--
CLAIRE: Listen, Harry, (_turning to_ HATTIE, _who is over by the tall
plants at right, not wanting to be shot but not wanting to miss the
conversation_) You can do my room now, Hattie.
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