ELIZABETH: What is it, mother?
CLAIRE: A fly shut up in my ear--'All the girls!'
ELIZABETH: (_laughing_) Mother was always so amusing. So _different_--if you know what I mean. Vacations I've lived mostly with Aunt Adelaide, you know.
CLAIRE: My sister who is fitted to rear children.
HARRY: Well, somebody has to do it.
ELIZABETH: And I do love Aunt Adelaide, but I think its going to be awfully amusing to be around with mother now--and help her with her work. Help do some useful beautiful thing.
CLAIRE: I am not doing any useful beautiful thing.
ELIZABETH: Oh, but you are, mother. Of course you are. Miss Lane says so. She says it is your splendid heritage gives you this impulse to do a beautiful thing for the race. She says you are doing in your way what the great teachers and preachers behind you did in theirs.
CLAIRE: (_who is good for little more_) Well, all I can say is, Miss Lane is stung.
ELIZABETH: Mother! What a thing to say of Miss Lane. (_from this slipping into more of a little girl manner_) Oh, she gave me a spiel one day about living up to the men I come from.
(CLAIRE _turns and regards her daughter_.)
CLAIRE: You'll do it, Elizabeth.
ELIZABETH: Well, I don't know. Quite a job, I'll say. Of course, I'd have to do it in my way. I'm not going to teach or preach or be a stuffy person. But now that--(_she here becomes the product of a superior school_) values have shifted and such sensitive new things have been liberated in the world--
CLAIRE: (_low_) Don't use those words.
ELIZABETH: Why--why not?
CLAIRE: Because you don't know what they mean.
ELIZABETH: Why, of course I know what they mean!
CLAIRE: (_turning away_) You're--stepping on the plants.
HARRY: (_hastily_) Your mother has been working awfully hard at all this.
ELIZABETH: Well, now that I'm here you'll let me help you, won't you, mother?
CLAIRE: (_trying for control_) You needn't--bother.
ELIZABETH: But I _want_ to. Help add to the wealth of the world.
CLAIRE: Will you please get it out of your head that I am adding to the wealth of the world!
ELIZABETH: But, mother--of course you are. To produce a new and better kind of plant--
CLAIRE: They may be new. I don't give a damn whether they're better.
ELIZABETH: But--but what are they then?
CLAIRE: (_as if choked out of her_) They're different.
ELIZABETH: (_thinks a minute, then laughs triumphantly_) But what's the use of making them different if they aren't better?
HARRY: A good square question, Claire. Why don't you answer it?
CLAIRE: I don't have to answer it.
HARRY: Why not give the girl a fair show? You never have, you know.
Since she's interested, why not tell her what it is you're doing?
CLAIRE: She is not interested.
ELIZABETH: But I am, mother. Indeed I am. I do want awfully to understand what you are doing, and help you.
CLAIRE: You can't help me, Elizabeth.
HARRY: Why not let her try?
CLAIRE: Why do you ask me to do that? This is my own thing. Why do you make me feel I should--(_goes to_ ELIZABETH) I will be good to you, Elizabeth. We'll go around together. I haven't done it, but--you'll see.
We'll do gay things. I'll have a lot of beaus around for you. Anything else. Not--this is--Not this.
ELIZABETH: As you like, mother, of course. I just would have been so glad to--to share the thing that interests you. (_hurt borne with good breeding and a smile_)
HARRY: Claire! (_which says, 'How can you?'_)
CLAIRE: (_who is looking at_ ELIZABETH) Yes, I will try.
TOM: I don't think so. As Claire says--anything else.
ELIZABETH: Why, of course--I don't at all want to intrude.
HARRY: It'll do Claire good to take someone in. To get down to brass tacks and actually say what she's driving at.
CLAIRE: Oh--_Harry_. But yes--I will try. (_does try, but no words come.
Laughs_) When you come to say it it's not--One would rather not nail it to a cross of words--(_laughs again_) with brass tacks.
HARRY: (_affectionately_) But I want to see you put things into words, Claire, and realize just where you are.
CLAIRE: (_oddly_) You think that's a--good idea?
ELIZABETH: (_in her manner of holding the world capably in her hands_) Now let's talk of something else. I hadn't the least idea of making mother feel badly.
CLAIRE: (_desperately_) No, we'll go on. Though I don't know--where we'll end. I can't answer for that. These plants--(_beginning flounderingly_) Perhaps they are less beautiful--less sound--than the plants from which they diverged. But they have found--otherness, (_laughs a little shrilly_) If you know--what I mean.
TOM: Claire--stop this! (_To_ HARRY) This is wrong.
CLAIRE: (_excitedly_) No; I'm going on. They have been shocked out of what they were--into something they were not; they've broken from the forms in which they found themselves. They are alien. Outside. That's it, outside; if you--know what I mean.