d hadnt we better change the subject.
Then the fat was in the fire, I can tell you. There was a regular
terror of a countess with an anaerobic system; and she told me,
downright brutally, that I'd better learn something about them before
my children died of diphtheria. That was just two months after I'd
buried poor little Bobby; and that was the very thing he died of, poor
little lamb! I burst out crying: I couldnt help it. It was as good
as telling me I'd killed my own child. I had to go away; but before I
was out of the door one of the duchesses--quite a young woman--began
talking about what sour milk did in her inside and how she expected to
live to be over a hundred if she took it regularly. And me listening
to her, that had never dared to think that a duchess could have
anything so common as an inside! I shouldnt have minded if it had
been children's insides: we have to talk about them. But grown-up
people! I was glad to get away that time.

HYPATIA. There was a physiology and hygiene class started at school;
but of course none of our girls were let attend it.

MRS TARLETON. If it had been an aristocratic school plenty would have
attended it. Thats what theyre like: theyve nasty minds. With
really nice good women a thing is either decent or indecent; and if
it's indecent, we just dont mention it or pretend to know about it;
and theres an end of it. But all the aristocracy cares about is
whether it can get any good out of the thing. Theyre what Johnny
calls cynical-like. And of course nobody can say a word to them for
it. Theyre so high up that they can do and say what they like.

HYPATIA. Well, I think they might leave the drains to their husbands.
I shouldnt think much of a man that left such things to me.

MRS TARLETON. Oh, dont think that, dear, whatever you do. I never
let on about it to you; but it's me that takes care of the drainage
here. After what that countess said to me I wasnt going to lose
another child or trust John. And I don't want my grandchildren to die
any more than my children.

HYPATIA. Do you think Bentley will ever be as big a man as his
father? I dont mean clever: I mean big and strong.

MRS TARLETON. Not he. Hes overbred, like one of those expensive
little dogs. I like a bit of a mongrel myself, whether it's a man or
a dog: theyre the best for everyday. But we all have our tastes:
whats one woman's meat is another woman's poison. Bunny's a dear
littl