little lawn tennis to set you up.
You are shockingly out of condition: you were not able to manage twenty
yards uphill today without stopping to pant; and your wrists are mere
rolls of fat. Look at mine. [She holds out her wrists].

MRS WARREN [after looking at her helplessly, begins to whimper] Vivie--

VIVIE [springing up sharply] Now pray don't begin to cry. Anything but
that. I really cannot stand whimpering. I will go out of the room if you
do.

MRS WARREN [piteously] Oh, my darling, how can you be so hard on me?
Have I no rights over you as your mother?

VIVIE. A r e you my mother?

MRS WARREN. _Am_ I your mother? Oh, Vivie!

VIVIE. Then where are our relatives? my father? our family friends? You
claim the rights of a mother: the right to call me fool and child; to
speak to me as no woman in authority over me at college dare speak to
me; to dictate my way of life; and to force on me the acquaintance of
a brute whom anyone can see to be the most vicious sort of London man
about town. Before I give myself the trouble to resist such claims, I
may as well find out whether they have any real existence.

MRS WARREN [distracted, throwing herself on her knees] Oh no, no.

Stop, stop. I _am_ your mother: I swear it. Oh, you can't mean to turn on
me--my own child! it's not natural. You believe me, don't you? Say you
believe me.

VIVIE. Who was my father?

MRS WARREN. You don't know what youre asking. I can't tell you.

VIVIE [determinedly] Oh yes you can, if you like. I have a right to
know; and you know very well that I have that right. You can refuse
to tell me if you please; but if you do, you will see the last of me
tomorrow morning.

MRS WARREN. Oh, it's too horrible to hear you talk like that. You
wouldn't--you _couldn't_ leave me.

VIVIE [ruthlessly] Yes, without a moment's hesitation, if you trifle
with me about this. [Shivering with disgust] How can I feel sure that I
may not have the contaminated blood of that brutal waster in my veins?

MRS WARREN. No, no. On my oath it's not he, nor any of the rest that you
have ever met. I'm certain of that, at least.

[Vivie's eyes fasten sternly on her mother as the significance of this
flashes on her.]

VIVIE [slowly] You are certain of that, at _least_. Ah! You mean that
that is all you are certain of. [Thoughtfully] I see. [Mrs Warren buries
her face in her hands]. Don't do that, mother: you know you don't feel
it a bit. [Mrs Warren takes down her hands