Lesbia.  The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil.  That sort of knowledge is of no use to me.  I’m afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George.  I live like a fencer, always on guard.  I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard.  I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people.

Mrs George.  Oh, sentimental your grandmother!  You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself.

Lesbia.  I’m not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins.  If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it.

Mrs George.  Do you?  Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there?

Tae general.  I’m afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want.

Lesbia [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man.  Yes, Boxer:  the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage.  And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married.  Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study].

The general [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia.

Lesbia.  Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door].

Mrs George.  Youre quite done with him, are you?

Lesbia.  As far as marriage is concerned, yes.  The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study].

The General buries his face in his hands.  Mrs George comes round the table to him.

Mrs George [sympathetically] She’s a nice woman, that.  And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else.

The general [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively].  You have thawed the long-frozen springs [he kisses her hand].  Forgive me; and thank you:  bless you—­[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion].

Mrs George [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh?

Hotchkiss.  Unfaithful to me already!

Mrs George.  I’m not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him].  You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her].  Oh!  You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I’ll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness].  Now you shall not see me for another month.