You
don't understand. It was not always possible to be very tender
with my mother. She had unfortunatly a very violent temper; and
she--she--
LADY CICELY. Yes: so you told Howard. (With genuine pity for him)
You must have had a very unhappy childhood.
BRASSBOUND (grimily). Hell. That was what my childhood was. Hell.
LADY CICELY. Do you think she would really have killed Howard, as
she threatened, if he hadn't sent her to prison?
BRASSBOUND (breaking out again, with a growing sense of being
morally trapped). What if she did? Why did he rob her? Why did he
not help her to get the estate, as he got it for himself
afterwards?
LADY CICELY. He says he couldn't, you know. But perhaps the real
reason was that he didn't like her. You know, don't you, that if
you don't like people you think of all the reasons for not helping
them, and if you like them you think of all the opposite reasons.
BRASSBOUND. But his duty as a brother!
LADY CICELY. Are you going to do your duty as a nephew?
BRASSBOUND. Don't quibble with me. I am going to do my duty as a
son; and you know it.
LADY CICELY. But I should have thought that the time for that was
in your mother's lifetime, when you could have been kind and
forbearing with her. Hurting your uncle won't do her any good, you
know.
BRASSBOUND. It will teach other scoundrels to respect widows and
orphans. Do you forget that there is such a thing as justice?
LADY CICELY (gaily shaking out the finished coat).
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