RANDALL. Correct! She does nothing but make scenes from morning till night. You be careful, old chap. She will get you into trouble: that is, she would if she really cared for you. HECTOR. Doesn't she? RANDALL. Not a scrap. She may want your scalp to add to her collection; but her true affection has been engaged years ago. You had really better be careful. HECTOR. Do you suffer much from this jealousy? RANDALL. Jealousy! I jealous! My dear fellow, haven't I told you that there is not an atom of-- HECTOR. Yes. And Lady Utterword told me she never made scenes. Well, don't waste your jealousy on my moustache. Never waste jealousy on a real man: it is the imaginary hero that supplants us all in the long run. Besides, jealousy does not belong to your easy man-of-the-world pose, which you carry so well in other respects. RANDALL. Really, Hushabye, I think a man may be allowed to be a gentleman without being accused of posing. HECTOR. It is a pose like any other. In this house we know all the poses: our game is to find out the man under the pose. The man under your pose is apparently Ellie's favorite, Othello. RANDALL. Some of your games in this house are damned annoying, let me tell you. HECTOR. Yes: I have been their victim for many years. I used to writhe under them at first; but I became accustomed to them. At last I learned to play them. RANDALL. If it's all the same to you I had rather you didn't play them on me. You evidently don't quite understand my character, or my notions of good form. HECTOR. Is it your notion of good form to give away Lady Utterword? RANDALL [a childishly plaintive note breaking into his huff]. I have not said a word against Lady Utterword. This is just the conspiracy over again. HECTOR. What conspiracy? RANDALL. You know very well, sir. A conspiracy to make me out to be pettish and jealous and childish and everything I am not. Everyone knows I am just the opposite. HECTOR [rising]. Something in the air of the house has upset you. It often does have that effect. [He goes to the garden door and calls Lady Utterword with commanding emphasis]. Ariadne! LADY UTTERWORD [at some distance]. Yes. RANDALL. What are you calling her for? I want to speak-- LADY UTTERWORD [arriving breathless]. Yes. You really are a terribly commanding person. What's the matter? HECTOR. I do not know how to manage your friend Randall. No doubt you do. LADY UTTERWORD. Randall: have you been making yourself ridiculous, as usual? I can see it in your face. Really, you are the most pettish creature.