Sydney. [Jumping up flippantly] Oh, I’m off getting married. I’m going to have a career.
Margaret.—the love—the children—
Sydney. [Strained] No children for me, Mother. No children for me. I’ve lost my chance for ever.
Margaret. [Weakly] No—no—
Sydney. [Smiling down at her] But you—you take it. I give it to you.
Margaret. But—
Sydney. [Dominant] What’s the use of arguing? I’ve made up my mind.
Margaret. But if your father—
Sydney. [At the end of her endurance] Go away, Mother. Go away quickly. This is my job, not yours. [She turns abruptly from them to the window, and stands staring out into the darkening garden.]
Margaret. [Dazed] So—so— [She sways, hesitating, unbelieving, like a bird at the open door of its cage] So—I can come.