[He
throws her, not at all gently, into the big chair, and proceeds,
less fiercely but firmly]. It is true that Napoleon said that
woman is the occupation of the idle man. But he added that she is
the relaxation of the warrior. Well, I am the warrior. So take
care.
LADY UTTERWORD [not in the least put out, and rather pleased by
his violence]. My dear Hector, I have only done what you asked me
to do.
HECTOR. How do you make that out, pray?
LADY UTTERWORD. You called me in to manage Randall, didn't you?
You said you couldn't manage him yourself.
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].
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