daughter then; but I'm not: I'm my father's daughter. (Looking at him
funnily.) That's a come down, isn't it?

CRAMPTON (angry). What! (Her odd expression does not alter. He
surrenders.) Well, yes, my dear: I suppose it is, I suppose it is.
(She nods sympathetically.) I'm afraid I'm sometimes a little
irritable; but I know what's right and reasonable all the time, even
when I don't act on it. Can you believe that?

GLORIA. Believe it! Why, that's myself---myself all over. I know
what's right and dignified and strong and noble, just as well as she
does; but oh, the things I do! the things I do! the things I let other
people do!!

CRAMPTON (a little grudgingly in spite of himself). As well as she
does? You mean your mother?

GLORIA (quickly). Yes, mother. (She turns to him on her knees and
seizes his hands.) Now listen. No treason to her: no word, no thought
against her. She is our superior---yours and mine---high heavens above
us. Is that agreed?

CRAMPTON. Yes, yes. Just as you please, my dear.

GLORIA (not satisfied, letting go his hands and drawing back from
him). You don't like her?

CRAMPTON. My child: you haven't been married to her. I have. (She
raises herself slowly to her feet, looking at him with growing
coldness.) She did me a great wrong in marrying me without really