recognition of the right of every member of the household to
independence and privacy (her emphasis on "privacy" is intense) in their
personal concerns. And because you have always enjoyed that, it seems
such a matter of course to you that you don't value it. But (with
biting acrimony) there is another sort of family life: a life in which
husbands open their wives' letters, and call on them to account for
every farthing of their expenditure and every moment of their time; in
which women do the same to their children; in which no room is private
and no hour sacred; in which duty, obedience, affection, home, morality
and religion are detestable tyrannies, and life is a vulgar round of
punishments and lies, coercion and rebellion, jealousy, suspicion,
recrimination--Oh! I cannot describe it to you: fortunately for you,
you know nothing about it. (She sits down, panting. Gloria has
listened to her with flashing eyes, sharing all her indignation.)

DOLLY (inaccessible to rhetoric). See Twentieth Century Parents,
chapter on Liberty, passim.

MRS. CLANDON (touching her shoulder affectionately, soothed even by a
gibe from her). My dear Dolly: if you only knew how glad I am that it
is nothing but a joke to you, though it is such bitter earnest to me.
(More resolutely, turning to Philip.) Phil, I never ask you questions
about your private concerns. You are not going to question me, are you?

PHILIP. I think it due to ourselves to say that the question we
wanted to ask is as much our business as yours.

DOLLY. Besides, it can't be good to keep a lot of questions bottled
up inside you. You did it, mamma; but see how awfully it's broken out
again in me.