ERWORD [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.
RANDALL. You know quite well, Ariadne, that I have not an ounce of pettishness in my disposition. I have made myself perfectly pleasant here. I have remained absolutely cool and imperturbable in the face of a burglar. Imperturbability is almost too strong a point of mine. But [putting his foot down with a stamp, and walking angrily up and down the room] I insist on being treated with a certain consideration. I will not allow Hushabye to take liberties with me. I will not stand your encouraging people as you do.
HECTOR. The man has a rooted delusion that he is your husband.
LADY UTTERWORD. I know. He is jealous. As if he had any right to be! He compromises me everywhere. He makes scenes all over the place. Randall: I will not allow it. I simply will not allow it. You had no right to discuss me with Hector. I will not be discussed by men.
HECTOR. Be reasonable, Ariadne. Your fatal gift of beauty forces men to discuss you.
LADY UTTERWORD. Oh indeed! what about YOUR fatal gift of beauty?
HECTOR. How can I help it?
LADY UTTERWORD. You could cut off your moustache:
