THOMAS. Then you are a bad case. Not to know it, is the worst sign of all.
It's in the family: you can't help being. Everything you say and do proves
it.... You were mad to come here. You are mad to remain here. You were mad
to want to see me. I was mad to let you see me. I was mad at the mere
sight of you; and I'm mad to be off again! Goodbye, Susan. If you send for
me again, I shan't come!

(_He puts on his hat with a flourish_!)

LAURA. Where are you going, Father?

THOMAS. To Hell, child! Your Hell, my Heaven!

(_He spreads his arms and rises up through the looking-glass; you
see his violet frock-coaty his check trousers, his white spats, and
patent-leather boots ascending into and passing from view. He twiddles his
feet at them and vanishes_.)

JULIA. And now I hope you are satisfied, Laura?

MARTHA. Where's Mamma gone?

JULIA. So you've driven her away, too. Well, that finishes it.

(_Apparently it does. Robbed of her parental prey, Mrs. James reverts to
the next dearest possession she is concerned about_.)

LAURA. Martha, where is the silver tea-pot?