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].
HECTOR. Is there any slavery on earth viler than this slavery of
men to women?
RANDALL [rising resolutely]. I'll not speak to her tomorrow. I'll
not speak to her for another week. I'll give her such a lesson.
I'll go straight to bed without bidding her good-night. [He makes
for the door leading to the hall].
HECTOR. You are under a spell, man. Old Shotover sold himself to
the devil in Zanzibar. The devil gave him a black witch for a
wife; and these two demon daughters are their mystical progeny. I
am tied to Hesione's apron-string; but I'm her husband; and if I
did go stark staring mad about her, at least we became man and
wife.
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