SOREL: I can’t, without speaking for everyone else too—we’re all exactly the same, and I’m ashamed of us.—Come into the library, Sandy. (_She drags SANDY off._) MYRA: Charming! It’s all perfectly charming. DAVID: I think it would be better, Judith, if you exercised a little more influence over the children. JUDITH: That’s right—blame it all on me. DAVID: After all, dear, you started it, by snapping everybody up. JUDITH: You ought never to have married me, David; it was a great mistake. DAVID: The atmosphere of this house is becoming more unbearable every day, and all because Simon and Sorel are allowed to do exactly what they like. JUDITH: You sit upstairs all day, writing your novels. DAVID: Novels which earn us our daily bread. JUDITH: “Daily bread” nonsense! We’ve got enough money to keep us in comfort until we die. DAVID: That will be very soon, if we can’t get a little peace. (_To MYRA_) Come out into the garden—— JUDITH: I sincerely hope the night air will cool you. DAVID: I don’t know what’s happened to you lately, Judith. JUDITH: Nothing’s happened to me—nothing ever does. You’re far too smug to allow it. DAVID: Smug! Thank you. JUDITH: Yes, smug, smug, smug! And pompous! DAVID: I hope you haven’t been drinking, dear. JUDITH: Drinking! Huh! that’s very amusing! DAVID: I think it’s rather tragic, at your time of life. (_He goes out with MYRA._) JUDITH: David’s been a good husband to me, but he’s wearing a bit thin now. RICHARD: Would you like me to go? To leave you alone for a little? JUDITH: Why? Are you afraid I shall become violent? RICHARD (_smiling_): No; I merely thought perhaps I was in the way. JUDITH: I hope you’re not embarrassed—I couldn’t bear you to be embarrassed. RICHARD: Not in the least. JUDITH: Marriage is a hideous affair altogether, don’t you think? RICHARD: I’m really hardly qualified to judge, you see. JUDITH: Do stop being non-committal, just for once; it’s doubly annoying in the face of us all having lost control so lamentably. RICHARD: I’m sorry. JUDITH: There’s nothing to be sorry for, really, because, after all, it’s your particular “thing,” isn’t it?—observing everything and not giving yourself away an inch. RICHARD: I suppose it is. JUDITH: You’ll get used to us in time, you know, and then you’ll feel cosier. Why don’t you sit down? (_She sits on sofa._) RICHARD: I’m enjoying myself very much. JUDITH: It’s very sweet of you to say so, but I don’t see how you can be. RICHARD (_laughing suddenly_): But I am! JUDITH: There now! that was quite a genuine laugh. We’re getting on. Are you in love with Sorel? RICHARD (_surprised and embarrassed_): In love with Sorel? JUDITH (_repentantly_): Now I’ve killed it—I’ve murdered the little tender feeling of comfort that was stealing over you, by sheer tactlessness! Will you teach me to be tactful? RICHARD: Did you really think I was in love with Sorel?