s.

BRASSBOUND. Why not, now that you have taken the meaning out of them?
(He tears them.) Is that a comfort too?

LADY CICELY. It's a little sad; but perhaps it is best so.

BRASSBOUND. That leaves one relic: her portrait. (He plucks the
photograph out of its cheap case.)

LADY CICELY (with vivid curiosity). Oh, let me see. (He hands it to
her. Before she can control herself, her expression changes to one of
unmistakable disappointment and repulsion.)

BRASSBOUND (with a single sardonic cachinnation). Ha! You expected
something better than that. Well, you're right. Her face does not look
well opposite yours.

LADY CICELY (distressed). I said nothing.

BRASSBOUND. What could you say? (He takes back the portrait: she
relinquishes it without a word. He looks at it; shakes his head; and
takes it quietly between his finger and thumb to tear it.)

LADY CICELY (staying his hand). Oh, not your mother's picture!

BRASSBOUND. If that were your picture, would you like your son to keep
it for younger and better women to see?

LADY CICELY (releasing his hand). Oh, you are dreadful! Tear it, tear
it. (She covers her eyes for a moment to shut out the sight.)

BRASSBOUND (tearing it quietly). You killed her for me that day in the
castle; and I am better without her. (He throws away the fragments.) Now
everything is gone. You have taken the old meaning out of my life; but
you have put no new meaning into it. I can see that you have some clue
to the world that makes all its difficulties easy for you; but I'm not
clever enough to seize it. You've lamed me by showing me that I take
life the wrong way when I'm left to myself.

LADY CICELY. Oh no. Why do you say that?

BRASSBOUND. What else can I say? See what I've done! My uncle is no
worse a man than myself--better, most likely; for he has a better head
and a higher place. Well, I took him for a villain out of a storybook.
My mother would have opened anybody else's eyes: she shut mine. I'm
a stupider man than Brandyfaced Jack even; for he got his romantic
nonsense out of his penny numbers and such like trash; but I got just
the same nonsense out of life and experience. (Shaking his head) It was
vulgar--VULGAR. I see that now; for you've opened my eyes to the past;
but what good is that for the future? What am I to do? Where am I to go?

LADY CICELY. It's quite simple. Do whatever you like. That's what I
always do.

BRASSBOUND. That answer is no good to me. What I like is