Trebell. No, I never have ... but I've never thought selfishly either.
Frances. That's a paradox I don't quite understand.
Trebell. Until women do they'll remain where they are ... and what they are.
Frances. Oh, I know you hate us.
Trebell. Yes, dear sister, I'm afraid I do. And I hate your influence on men ... compromise, tenderness, pity, lack of purpose. Women don't know the values of things, not even their own value.
For a moment she studies him, wonderingly.
Frances. I'll take up the counter-accusation to-morrow. Now I'm tired and I'm going to bed. If I may insult you by mothering you, so should you. You look tired and I've seldom seen you.
Trebell. I'm waiting up for a message.
Frances. So late?
Trebell. It's a matter of life and death.