--keep off.

MRS. BARLOW. It's the men who need beating nowadays, not the children.
Beat the softness out of him, young woman. It's the only way, if you
love him enough--if you love him enough.

GERALD. You hear, Anabel?

Speak roughly to your little boy,
And beat him when he sneezes.

MRS. BARLOW (catching up a large old fan, and smashing it about his
head). You softy--you piffler--you will never have had enough! Ah, you
should be thrust in the fire, you should, to have the softness and the
brittleness burnt out of you!

(The door opens--OLIVER TURTON enters, followed by JOB ARTHUR FREER.
MRS. BARLOW is still attacking GERALD. She turns, infuriated.)

Go out! Go out! What do you mean by coming in unannounced? Take him
upstairs--take that fellow into the library, Oliver Turton.

GERALD. Mother, you improve our already pretty reputation. Already they
say you are mad.

MRS. BARLOW (ringing violently). Let me be mad then. I am mad--driven
mad. One day I shall kill you, Gerald.

GERALD. You won't, mother because I sha'n't let you.

MRS. BARLOW. Let me!--let me! As if I should wait for you to let me!

GERALD. I am a match for you even in violence, come to that.

MRS. BARLOW. A match! A damp match. A wet match.

(Enter BUTLER.)

WILLIAM. You rang, madam?

MRS. BARLOW. Clear up those bits.--Where are you going to see that
white-faced fellow? Here?

GERALD. I think so.

MRS. BARLOW. You will STILL have them coming to the house, will you? You
will still let them trample in our private rooms, will you? Bah! I ought
to leave you to your own devices. (Exit.)

GERALD. When you've done that, William, ask Mr. Freer to come down here.

WILLIAM. Yes, sir. (A pause. Exit WILLIAM.)

GERALD. So-o-o. You've had another glimpse of the family life.

ANABEL. Yes. Rather--disturbing.

GERALD. Not at all, when you're used to it. Mother isn't as mad as she
pretends to be.

ANABEL. I don't think she's mad at all. I think she has most desperate
courage.

GERALD. "Courage" is good. That's a new term for it.

ANABEL. Yes, courage. When a man says "courage" he means the courage to
die. A woman means the courage to live. That's what women hate men most
for, that they haven't the courage to live.

GERALD. Mother takes her courage in both hands rather late.

ANABEL. We're a little late ourselves.

GERALD. We are, rather. By the way, you seem to have had plenty of
the courage o