have you? Harm. Harm. Harm. You're talkin' about harm, and I'm
talking about richt an' wrang. You'd see your son grow up a
drunken keelie, an' mebbe a thief an' a murderer, so long as you
could say there was nae harm in it.

DAVID (_expostulating with some cause_). But I cudna say there was
nae harm in that, Lizzie, an' I wudna. Only when there's nae
harm--

LIZZIE. Och. (_Exits, calling off to the cause of the trouble._)
Are ye in yer bed yet, Alexander?

(_Shuts door with a click._)

DAVID (_standing on hearth-rug and shaking his head more in sorrow
than in anger_). She's no reasonable, ye ken, John; she disna
argue fair. I'm no complaining o' her mither, but it's a wee
thing hard that the only twa women I've known to be really chatty
an' argumentative with should ha' been just like that. An' me
that fond o' women's society.

(_He lowers himself into his chair._)

JOHN. They're all like it.

DAVID (_judiciously_). I wudna go sae far as to say that, John. Ye
see, I've only kent they twa to study carefully--an' it's no fair
to judge the whole sex by just the twa examples, an' it
were--(_Running on_) But it's gey hard, an' I was wantin' to tell
wee Alexander a special fine story the nicht. (_Removes glasses