LUCY. [Deliberately ... not to be treated as a child.] You couldn’t, you know, if I wanted to.

TREBELL.  Why, is Walter a fool?

LUCY.  He’s very fond of me, if that’s what you mean?

      TREBELL looks at her for the first time and changes his tone a
      little.

TREBELL.  If it was what I meant ...  I’m disposed to withdraw the suggestion.

LUCY.  And, because I’m fond of his work as well, I shan’t therefore ask him to tell me things ... secrets.

TREBELL. [Reverting to his humour.] It’ll be when you’re a year or two married that danger may occur ... in his desperate effort to make conversation.

      LUCY considers this and him quite seriously.

LUCY.  You’re rather hard on women, aren’t you ... just because they don’t have the chances men do.

TREBELL.  Do you want the chances?

LUCY.  I think I’m as clever as most men I meet, though I know less, of course.

TREBELL.  Perhaps I should have offered you the secretaryship instead.

LUCY. [Readily.] Don’t you think I’m taking it in a way ... by marrying Walter?  That’s fanciful of course.  But marriage is a very general and complete sort of partnership, isn’t it?  At least, I’d like to make mine so.

TREBELL.  He’ll be more under your thumb in some things if you leave him free in others.

      She receives the sarcasm in all seriousness and then speaks to him as
      she would to a child.

LUCY.  Oh ...  I’m not explaining what I mean quite well perhaps.  Walter has been everywhere and done everything.  He speaks three languages ... which all makes him an ideal private secretary.

TREBELL.  Quite.

LUCY.  Do you think he’d develop into anything else ... but for me?

TREBELL.  So I have provided just a first step, have I?

LUCY. [With real enthusiasm.] Oh, Mr. Trebell, it’s a great thing for us.  There isn’t anyone worth working under but you.  You’ll make him think and give him ideas instead of expecting them from him.  But just for that reason he’d get so attached to you and be quite content to grow old in your shadow ... if it wasn’t for me.

TREBELL.  True ...  I should encourage him in nothingness.  What’s more, I want extra brains and hands.  It’s not altogether a pleasant thing, is it ... the selfishness of the hard worked man?

LUCY.  If you don’t grudge your own strength, why should you be tender of other people’s?

      He looks at her curiously.

TREBELL.  Your ambition is making for only second-hand satisfaction though.

LUCY.  What’s a woman to do?  She must work through men, mustn’t she?

TREBELL.  I’m told that’s degrading ... the influencing of husbands and brothers and sons.

LUCY. [Only half humorously.] But what else is one to do with them?  Of course, I’ve enough money to live on ... so I could take up some woman’s profession ...  What are you smiling at?