me as your ward, Granny? Ramsden No: I never said that. I greatly object to act with Mr. Tanner: that’s all. Mrs. Whitefield Why? What’s the matter with poor Jack? Tanner My views are too advanced for him. Ramsden Indignantly. They are not. I deny it. Ann Of course not. What nonsense! Nobody is more advanced than Granny. I am sure it is Jack himself who has made all the difficulty. Come, Jack! Be kind to me in my sorrow. You don’t refuse to accept me as your ward, do you? Tanner Gloomily. No. I let myself in for it; so I suppose I must face it. He turns away to the bookcase, and stands there, moodily studying the titles of the volumes. Ann Rising and expanding with subdued but gushing delight. Then we are all agreed; and my dear father’s will is to be carried out. You don’t know what a joy that is to me and to my mother! She goes to Ramsden and presses both his hands, saying. And I shall have my dear Granny to help and advise me. She casts a glance at Tanner over her shoulder. And Jack the Giant Killer. She goes past her mother to Octavius. And Jack’s inseparable friend Ricky-ticky-tavy He blushes and looks inexpressibly foolish. Mrs. Whitefield Rising and shaking her widow’s weeds straight. Now that you are Ann’s guardian, Mr. Ramsden, I wish you would speak to her about her habit of giving people nicknames. They can’t be expected to like it. She moves towards the door. Ann How can you say such a thing, Mamma! Glowing with affectionate remorse. Oh, I wonder can you be right! Have I been inconsiderate? She turns to Octavius, who is sitting astride his chair with his elbows on the back of it. Putting her hand on his forehead she turns his face up suddenly. Do you want to be treated like a grown up man? Must I call you Mr. Robinson in future? Octavius Earnestly. Oh please call me Ricky-ticky-tavy, “ Mr. Robinson” would hurt me cruelly. Ann She laughs and pats his cheek with her finger; then comes back to Ramsden. You know I’m beginning to think that Granny is rather a piece of impertinence. But I never dreamt of its hurting you. Ramsden Breezily, as he pats her affectionately on the back. My dear Annie, nonsense. I insist on Granny. I won’t answer to any other name than Annie’s Granny. Ann Gratefully. You all spoil me, except Jack. Tanner Over his shoulder, from the bookcase. I think you ought to call me Mr. Tanner. Ann Gently. No you don’t, Jack. That’s like the things you say on purpose to shock people: those who know you pay no attention to them. But, if you like, I’ll call you after your famous ancestor Don Juan. Ramsden Don Juan! Ann Innocently. Oh, is there any harm in it? I didn’t know. Then I certainly won’t call you that. May I call you Jack until I can think of something else? Tanner Oh, for Heaven’s sake don’t try to invent anything worse. I capitulate. I consent to Jack. I embrace Jack. Here endeth my first and last attempt to assert my authority. Ann You see, Mamma, they all really like to have pet names. Mrs. Whitefield Well, I think you might at least drop them until we are out of mourning. Ann Reproachfully, stricken to the soul. Oh, how could you remind me, mother? She hastily leaves the room to conceal her emotion. Mrs. Whitefield Of course. My fault as usual! She follows Ann. Tanner Coming from the bockcase. Ramsden: we’re beaten⁠—smashed⁠—nonentitized, like her mother. Ramsden Stuff, Sir. He follows Mrs. Whitefield out of the room. Tanner Left alone with Octavius, stares whimsically at him. Tavy: do you want to count for something in the world? Octavius I want to count for something as a poet: I want to write a great play. Tanner With Ann as the heroine? Octavius Yes: I confess it. Tanner Take care, Tavy. The play with Ann as the heroine is all right; but if you’re not very careful, by Heaven she’ll marry you. Octavius Sighing. No such luck, Jack! Tanner Why, man, your head is in the lioness’s mouth: you are half swallowed already⁠—in three bites⁠—Bite One, Ricky; Bite Two, Ticky; Bite Three, Tavy; and down you go. Octavius She is the same to everybody, Jack: you know her ways. Tanner Yes: she breaks everybody’s back with the stroke of her paw; but the question is, which of us will she eat? My own opinion is that she means to eat you. Octavius Rising, pettishly. It’s horrible to talk like that about her when she is upstairs crying for her father. But I do so want her to eat me that I can bear your brutalities because they give me hope. Tanner Tavy; that’s the devilish side of a woman’s fascination: she makes you will your own destruction. Octavius But it’s not destruction: it’s fulfilment. Tanner Yes, of her purpose; and that purpose is neither her happiness nor yours, but Nature’s. Vitality in a woman is a blind fury of creation. She sacrifices herself to it: do you think she will hesitate to sacrifice you? Octavius Why, it is just because she is self-sacrificing that she will not sacrifice those she loves. Tanner That is the profoundest of mistakes, Tavy. It is the self-sacrificing women that sacrifice others most recklessly. Because they are unselfish, they are kind in little things. Because they have a purpose which is not their own purpose, but that of the whole universe, a man is nothing to them but an instrument of that purpose. Octavius Don’t be ungenerous, Jack. They take the tenderest care of us. Tanner Yes, as a soldier takes care of his rifle or a musician of his violin. But do they allow us any purpose or freedom of our own? Will they lend us to one another? Can the strongest man escape from them when once he is appropriated? They tremble when we are in danger,