HYPATIA. Please dont say it may break your poor boy's heart. It's
much more likely to break yours.
LORD SUMMERHAYS. Oh!
TARLETON. _[springing to his feet]_ Leave the room. Do you hear:
leave the room.
PERCIVAL. Arnt we getting a little cross? Dont be angry, Mr
Tarleton. Read Marcus Aurelius.
TARLETON. Dont you dare make fun of me. Take your aeroplane out of
my vinery and yourself out of my house.
PERCIVAL. _[rising, to Hypatia]_ I'm afraid I shall have to dine at
the Beacon, Patsy.
HYPATIA. _[rising]_ Do. I dine with you.
TARLETON. Did you hear me tell you to leave the room?
HYPATIA. I did. _[To Percival]_ You see what living with one's
parents means, Joey. It means living in a house where you can be
ordered to leave the room. Ive got to obey: it's his house, not
mine.
TARLETON. Who pays for it? Go and support yourself as I did if you
want to be independent.
HYPATIA. I wanted to and you wouldnt let me. How can I support
myself when I'm a prisoner?
TARLETON. Hold your tongue.
HYPATIA. Keep your temper.
PERCIVAL. _[coming between them]_ Lord Summerhays: youll join me,
I'm sure, in pointing out to both father and daughter that they have
now reached that very common stage in family life at which anything
but a blow would be an anti-climax. Do you seriously want to beat
Patsy, Mr Tarleton?
TARLETON. Yes. I want to thrash the life out of her. If she doesnt
get out of my reach, I'll do it. _[He sits down and grasps the
writing table to restrain himself]._
HYPATIA. _[coolly going to him and leaning with her breast on his
writhing shoulders]_ Oh, if you want to beat me just to relieve your
feelings--just really and truly for the fun of it and the satisfaction
of it, beat away. I dont grudge you that.
TARLETON. _[almost in hysterics]_ I used to think that this sort of
thing went on in other families but that it never could happen in
ours. And now-- _[He is broken with emotion, and continues
lamentably]_ I cant say the right thing. I cant do the right thing.
I dont know what is the right thing. I'm beaten; and she knows it.
Summerhays: tell me what to do.
LORD SUMMERHAYS. When my council in Jinghiskahn reached the point of
coming to blows, I used to adjourn the sitting. Let us postpone the
discussion. Wait until Monday: we shall have Sunday to quiet down
in. Believe me, I'm not making fun of you; but I think theres
something in this young gentleman's advice. Read something.
TARLETON. I'll read King Lear.
HYPATIA. Dont. I'm very sorry, dear.
TARLETON. Youre not. Youre laughing at me. Serve me right! Parents
and children! No man should know his own child. No child should know
its own father. Let the family be rooted out of civilization! Let
the human race be brought up in institutions!
HYPATIA. Oh yes. How jolly! You and I might be friends then; and
Joey could stay to dinner.
TARLETON. Let him stay to dinner. Let him stay to breakfast. Let
him spend his life here. Dont you say I drove him out. Dont you say
I drove you out.
PERCIVAL. I really have no right to inflict myself on you. Dropping
in as I did--
TARLETON. Out of the sky. Ha! Dropping in. The new sport of
aviation. You just see a nice house; drop in; scoop up the man's
daughter; and off with you again.
_Bentley comes back, with his shoulders hanging as if he too had been
exercised to the last pitch of fatigue. He is very sad. They stare
at him as he gropes to Percival's chair._
BENTLEY. I'm sorry for making a fool of myself. I beg your pardon.
Hypatia: I'm awfully sorry; but Ive made up my mind that I'll never
marry. _[He sits down in deep depression]._
HYPATIA. _[running to him]_ How nice of you, Bentley! Of course you
guessed I wanted to marry Joey. What did the Polish lady do to you?
BENTLEY. _[turning his head away]_ I'd rather not speak of her, if
you dont mind.