chap. Now, I assure you I have not an atom of jealousy in my disposition
HECTOR. The question would seem to be rather whether your brother has any touch of that sort.
RANDALL. What! Hastings! Oh, don't trouble about Hastings. He has the gift of being able to work sixteen hours a day at the dullest detail, and actually likes it. That gets him to the top wherever he goes. As long as Ariadne takes care that he is fed regularly, he is only too thankful to anyone who will keep her in good humor for him.
HECTOR. And as she has all the Shotover fascination, there is plenty of competition for the job, eh?
RANDALL [angrily]. She encourages them. Her conduct is perfectly scandalous. I assure you, my dear fellow, I haven't an atom of jealousy in my composition; but she makes herself the talk of every place she goes to by her thoughtlessness. It's nothing more: she doesn't really care for the men she keeps hanging about her; but how is the world to know that? It's not fair to Hastings. It's not fair to me.
HECTOR. Her theory is that her conduct is so correct
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
