BUILDER. Oh! you think so! That's the inflammatory fiction you pick up. I tell you what, young woman—the sooner you and your sister get rid of your silly notions about not living at home, and making your own way, the sooner you'll both get married and make it. Men don't like the new spirit in women—they may say they do, but they don't.
MAUD. You don't, father, I know.
BUILDER. Well, I'm very ordinary. If you keep your eyes open, you'll soon see that.
MAUD. Men don't like freedom for anybody but themselves.
BUILDER. That's not the way to put it. [Tapping out his pipe] Women in your class have never had to face realities.
MAUD. No, but we want to.
BUILDER. [Good-humouredly] Well, I'll bet you what you like, Athene's dose of reality will have cured her.
MAUD. And I'll bet you—No, I won't!
BUILDER. You'd better not. Athene will come home, and only too glad to do it. Ring for Topping and order the car at twelve.
As he opens the door to pass out, MAUD starts forward, but checks
herself.