Mrs Warren.  What nonsense is this youre trying to talk?  Do you want to shew your independence, now that youre a great little person at school?  Don’t be a fool, child.

Vivie [indulgently] Thats all you have to say on the subject, is it, mother?

Mrs Warren [puzzled, then angry] Don’t you keep on asking me questions like that. [Violently] Hold your tongue. [Vivie works on, losing no time, and saying nothing].  You and your way of life, indeed!  What next? [She looks at Vivie again.  No reply].

Your way of life will be what I please, so it will. [Another pause].  Ive been noticing these airs in you ever since you got that tripos or whatever you call it.  If you think I’m going to put up with them, youre mistaken; and the sooner you find it out, the better. [Muttering] All I have to say on the subject, indeed! [Again raising her voice angrily] Do you know who youre speaking to, Miss?

Vivie [looking across at her without raising her head from her book] No.  Who are you?  What are you?

Mrs Warren [rising breathless] You young imp!

Vivie.  Everybody knows my reputation, my social standing, and the profession I intend to pursue.  I know nothing about you.  What is that way of life which you invite me to share with you and Sir George Crofts, pray?

Mrs Warren.  Take care.  I shall do something I’ll be sorry for after, and you too.

Vivie [putting aside her books with cool decision] Well, let us drop the subject until you are better able to face it. [Looking critically at her mother] You want some good walks and a little lawn tennis to set you up.  You are shockingly out of condition:  you were not able to manage twenty yards uphill today without stopping to pant; and your wrists are mere rolls of fat.  Look at mine. [She holds out her wrists].

Mrs Warren [after looking at her helplessly, begins to whimper] Vivie—­

Vivie [springing up sharply] Now pray don’t begin to cry.  Anything but that.  I really cannot stand whimpering.  I will go out of the room if you do.

Mrs Warren [piteously] Oh, my darling, how can you be so hard on me?  Have I no rights over you as your mother?

Vivie.  A r e you my mother?

Mrs Warren. Am I your mother?  Oh, Vivie!

VIVIE.  Then where are our relatives? my father? our family friends?  You claim the rights of a mother:  the right to call me fool and child; to speak to me as no woman in authority over me at college dare speak to me; to dictate my way of life; and to force on me the acquaintance of a brute whom anyone can see to be the most vicious sort of London man about town.  Before I give myself the trouble to resist such claims, I may as well find out whether they have any real existence.

MRS WARREN [distracted, throwing herself on her knees] Oh no, no.