She is my daughter.
[He draws her arm through his caressingly].

MRS HUSHABYE. Of course: how stupid! Mr Utterword, my sister's--er--

RANDALL [shaking hands agreeably]. Her brother-in-law, Mr Dunn. How do
you do?

MRS HUSHABYE. This is my husband.

HECTOR. We have met, dear. Don't introduce us any more. [He moves away
to the big chair, and adds] Won't you sit down, Lady Utterword? [She
does so very graciously].

MRS HUSHABYE. Sorry. I hate it: it's like making people show their
tickets.

MAZZINI [sententiously]. How little it tells us, after all! The great
question is, not who we are, but what we are.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Ha! What are you?

MAZZINI [taken aback]. What am I?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. A thief, a pirate, and a murderer.

MAZZINI. I assure you you are mistaken.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. An adventurous life; but what does it end in?
Respectability. A ladylike daughter. The language and appearance of a
city missionary. Let it be a warning to all of you [he goes out through
the garden].

DUNN. I hope nobody here believes that I am a thief, a pirate, or a
murderer. Mrs Hushabye, will you excuse me a moment? I must really go
and explain. [He follows the captain].

MRS HUSHABYE [as he goes]. It's no use. You'd really better-- [but Dunn
has vanished]. We had better all go out and look for some tea. We
never have regular tea; but you can always get some when you want: the
servants keep it stewing all day. The kitchen veranda is the best place
to ask. May I show you? [She goes to the starboard door].

RANDALL [going with her]. Thank you, I don't think I'll take any tea
this afternoon. But if you will show me the garden--

MRS HUSHABYE. There's nothing to see in the garden except papa's
observatory, and a gravel pit with a cave where he keeps dynamite and
things of that sort. However, it's pleasanter out of doors; so come
along.

RANDALL. Dynamite! Isn't that rather risky?

MRS HUSHABYE. Well, we don't sit in the gravel pit when there's a
thunderstorm.

LADY UTTERORRD. That's something new. What is the dynamite for?

HECTOR. To blow up the human race if it goes too far. He is trying to
discover a psychic ray that will explode all the explosive at the well
of a Mahatma.

ELLIE. The captain's tea is delicious, Mr Utterword.

MRS HUSHABYE [stopping in the doorway]. Do you mean to say that you've
had some of my father's tea? that you got round him before you were ten
minutes in the house?

ELLIE. I did.