youll ever
know her.

VIVIE. You are wrong: you know nothing about her. If you knew the
circumstances against which my mother had to struggle--

FRANK [adroitly finishing the sentence for her] I should know why she is
what she is, shouldn't I? What difference would that make?

Circumstances or no circumstances, Viv, you won't be able to stand your
mother.

VIVIE [very angry] Why not?

FRANK. Because she's an old wretch, Viv. If you ever put your arm around
her waist in my presence again, I'll shoot myself there and then as a
protest against an exhibition which revolts me.

VIVIE. Must I choose between dropping your acquaintance and dropping my
mother's?

FRANK [gracefully] That would put the old lady at ever such a
disadvantage. No, Viv: your infatuated little boy will have to stick to
you in any case. But he's all the more anxious that you shouldn't make
mistakes. It's no use, Viv: your mother's impossible. She may be a good
sort; but she's a bad lot, a very bad lot.

VIVIE [hotly] Frank--! [He stands his ground. She turns away and
sits down on the bench under the yew tree, struggling to recover her
self-command. Then she says] Is she to be deserted by the world because
she's what you call a bad lot? Has she no right to live?

FRANK. No fear of that, Viv: _she_ won't ever be deserted. [He sits on
the bench beside her].

VIVIE. But I am to desert her, I suppose.

FRANK [babyishly, lulling her and making love to her with his voice]
Mustn't go live with her. Little family group of mother and daughter
wouldn't be a success. Spoil o u r little group.

VIVIE [falling under the spell] What little group?

FRANK. The babes in the wood: Vivie and little Frank. [He nestles
against her like a weary child]. Lets go and get covered up with leaves.

VIVIE [rhythmically, rocking him like a nurse] Fast asleep, hand in
hand, under the trees.

FRANK. The wise little girl with her silly little boy.

VIVIE. The deal little boy with his dowdy little girl.

FRANK. Ever so peaceful, and relieved from the imbecility of the little
boy's father and the questionableness of the little girl's--

VIVIE [smothering the word against her breast] Sh-sh-sh-sh! little girl
wants to forget all about her mother. [They are silent for some moments,
rocking one another. Then Vivie wakes up with a shock, exclaiming] What
a pair of fools we are! Come: sit up. Gracious! your hair. [She smooths
it]. I wonder do all grown up people play in th