JULIA. Oh, Laura, why did you do this?

MARTHA. If this goes on, I shall leave the room.

LAURA. Where are those _others_ now?

THOMAS. Three of them I see before me. You, Laura, used to scream
horribly. When you were teething, I was sleepless. Your Mother insisted on
having you in the room with us. No wonder I went elsewhere.

MARTHA. I'm going!

THOMAS. Don't, Martha! You were the quietest of the lot. When you were two
years old I even began to like you. You were the exception.

LAURA. Haven't you any affection for your old home?

THOMAS. None. It was a prison. You were the gaolers and the turnkeys. To
keep my feet in the domestic way you made me wool-work slippers, and I had
to wear them. You gave me neckties, which I wouldn't wear. You gave me
affection of a demanding kind, which I didn't want. You gave me a moral
atmosphere which I detested. And at last I could bear it no more, and I
escaped.

LAURA (_deaf to instruction_). Papa, we wish you and our dear Mother
to come back and live with us.

THOMAS. Live with my grandmother! How could I live with any of you?

LAURA. Where _are_ you living?