HECTOR. Well, what if I did? I did not ask you to drive the man mad.
LADY UTTERWORD. He isn't mad. That's the way to manage him. If you were a mother, you'd understand.
HECTOR. Mother! What are you up to now?
LADY UTTERWORD. It's quite simple. When the children got nerves and were naughty, I smacked them just enough to give them a good cry and a healthy nervous shock. They went to sleep and were quite good afterwards. Well, I can't smack Randall: he is too big; so when he gets nerves and is naughty, I just rag him till he cries. He will be all right now. Look: he is half asleep already [which is quite true].
RANDALL [waking up indignantly]. I'm not. You are most cruel, Ariadne. [Sentimentally]. But I suppose I must forgive you, as usual [he checks himself in the act of yawning].
LADY UTTERWORD [to Hector]. Is the explanation satisfactory, dread warrior?
HECTOR. Some day I shall kill you, if you go too far. I thought you were a fool.
LADY UTTERWORD [laughing]. Everybody does, at first. But I am not such a fool as I look. [She rises complacently]. Now, Randall, go to bed. You will be a good boy in the morning.
RANDALL [only very faintly rebellious]. I'll go to bed when I like. It isn't ten yet.
LADY UTTERWORD. It is long past ten. See that he goes to bed at once, Hector. [She goes into the garden].