HECTOR. You are no Bohemian; but you are no Puritan either: your attraction is alive and powerful. What sort of woman do you count yourself?
LADY UTTERWORD. I am a woman of the world, Hector; and I can assure you that if you will only take the trouble always to do the perfectly correct thing, and to say the perfectly correct thing, you can do just what you like. An ill-conducted, careless woman gets simply no chance. An ill-conducted, careless man is never allowed within arm's length of any woman worth knowing.
HECTOR. I see. You are neither a Bohemian woman nor a Puritan woman. You are a dangerous woman.
LADY UTTERWORD. On the contrary, I am a safe woman.
HECTOR. You are a most accursedly attractive woman. Mind, I am not making love to you. I do not like being attracted. But you had better know how I feel if you are going to stay here.
LADY UTTERWORD. You are an exceedingly clever lady-killer, Hector. And terribly handsome. I am quite a good player, myself, at that game. Is it quite understood that we are only playing?
HECTOR. Quite. I am deliberately playing the fool, out of sheer worthlessness.
LADY UTTERWORD [rising brightly]. Well, you are my brother-in-law, Hesione asked you to kiss me. [He seizes her in his arms and kisses her strenuously]. Oh! that was a little more than play, brother-in-law. [She pushes him suddenly away]. You shall not do that again.
HECTOR. In effect, you got your claws deeper into me than Iintended.
MRS HUBHABYE [coming in from the garden]. Don't let me disturb you; I only want a cap to put on daddiest. The sun is setting;and he'll catch cold [she makes for the door leading to the hall].
LADY UTTERWORD. Your husband is quite charming, darling. He has actually condescended to kiss me at last. I shall go into the garden: it's cooler now [she goes out by the port door].
MRS HUSHABYE. Take care, dear child. I don't believe any man can kiss Addy without falling in love with her. [She goes into the hall].
HECTOR [striking himself on the chest]. Fool! Goat!
Mrs Hushabye comes back with the captain's cap.
HECTOR. Your sister is an extremely enterprising old girl.
Where's Miss Dunn!
MRS HUSHABYE. Mangan says she has gone up to her room for a nap.
Addy won't let you talk to Ellie: she has marked you for her own.
HECTOR. She has the diabolical family fascination. I began making love to her automatically. What am I to do? I can't fall in love;and I can't hurt a woman's feelings by telling her so when she falls in love with me. And as women are always falling in love with my moustache I get landed in all sorts of tedious and terrifying flirtations in which I'm not a bit in earnest.
MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, neither is Addy. She has never been in love in her life, though she has always been trying to fall in head over ears. She is worse than you, because you had one real go at least, with me.
HECTOR. That was a confounded madness. I can't believe that such an amazing experience is common. It has left its mark on me. Ibelieve that is why I have never been able to repeat it.
MRS HUSHABYE [laughing and caressing his arm]. We were frightfully in love with one another, Hector. It was such an enchanting dream that I have never been able to grudge it to you or anyone else since. I have invited all sorts of pretty women to the house on the chance of giving you another turn. But it has never come off.
HECTOR. I don't know that I want it to come off. It was damned dangerous. You fascinated me; but I loved you; so it was heaven.
This sister of yours fascinates me; but I hate her; so it is hell. I shall kill her if she persists.
MRS. HUSHABYE. Nothing will kill Addy; she is as strong as a horse. [Releasing him]. Now I am going off to fascinate somebody.
HECTOR. The Foreign Office toff? Randall?
MRS HUSHABYE. Goodness gracious, no! Why should I fascinate him?
HECTOR. I presume you don't mean the bloated capitalist, Mangan?
MRS HUSHABYE. Hm! I think he had better be fascinated by me than by Ellie. [She is going into the garden when the captain comes in from it with some sticks in his hand]. What have you got there, daddiest?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Dynamite.
MRS HUSHABYE. You've been to the gravel pit. Don't drop it about the house, there's a dear. [She goes into the garden, where the evening light is now very red].
HECTOR. Listen, O sage. How long dare you concentrate on a feeling without risking having it fixed in your consciousness all the rest of your life?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Ninety minutes. An hour and a half. [He goes into the pantry].
Hector, left alone, contracts his brows, and falls into a day-dream. He does not move for some time. Then he folds his arms. Then, throwing his hands behind him, and gripping one with the other, he strides tragically once to and fro. Suddenly he snatches his walking stick from the teak table, and draws it; for it is a swordstick. He fights a desperate duel with an imaginary antagonist, and after many vicissitudes runs him through the body up to the hilt. He sheathes his sword and throws it on the sofa, falling into another reverie as he does so. He looks straight into the eyes of an imaginary woman; seizes her by the arms; and says in a deep and thrilling tone, "Do you love me!" The captain comes out of the pantry at this moment; and Hector, caught with his arms stretched out and his fists clenched, has to account for his attitude by going through a series of gymnastic exercises.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. That sort of strength is no good. You will never be as strong as a gorilla.
HECTOR. What is the dynamite for?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. To kill fellows like Mangan.
HECTOR. No use. They will always be able to buy more dynamite than you.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I will make a dynamite that he cannot explode.
HECTOR. And that you can, eh?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Yes: when I have attained the seventh degree of concentration.
HECTOR. What's the use of that? You never do attain it.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What then is to be done? Are we to be kept forever in the mud by these hogs to whom the universe is nothing but a machine for greasing their bristles and filling their snouts?
