think so! I tell you--a very little
more of this liberty--licence I call it--and there isn't a man who'll be
able to call himself head of a family.

JOURNALIST. [Encouragingly] Quite!

BUILDER. If the law thinks it can back up revolt, it's damned well
mistaken. I struck my daughter--I was in a passion, as you would have
been.

JOURNALIST. [Encouraging] I'm sure--

BUILDER. [Glaring at him] Well, I don't know that you would; you look a
soft sort; but any man with any blood in him.

JOURNALIST. Can one ask what she was doing, sir? We couldn't get that
point quite clear.

BUILDER. Doing? I just had my arm round my wife, trying to induce her
to come home with me after a little family tiff, and this girl came at
me. I lost my temper, and tapped her with my cane. And--that policeman
brought by my own daughter--a policeman! If the law is going to enter
private houses and abrogate domestic authority, where the hell shall we
be?

JOURNALIST. [Encouraging] No, I'm sure--I'm sure!

BUILDER. The maudlin sentimentality in these days is absolutely rotting
this country. A man can't be master in his own house, can't require his
wife to fulfil her duties, can't attempt to control the conduct of his
daughters, without coming up against it and incurring odium. A man can't
control his employees; he can't put his foot down on rebellion anywhere,
without a lot of humanitarians and licence-lovers howling at him.

JOURNALIST. Excellent, Sir; excellent!

BUILDER. Excellent? It's damnable. Here am I--a man who's always tried
to do his duty in private life and public--brought up before the Bench--
my God! because I was doing that duty; with a little too much zeal,
perhaps--I'm not an angel!

JOURNALIST. No! No! of course.

BUILDER. A proper Englishman never is. But there are no proper
Englishmen nowadays.

He crosses the room in his fervour.

RALPH. [Suddenly] As I look at faces--

BUILDER. [Absorbed] What! I told this young man I wasn't an angel.

JOURNALIST. [Drawing him on] Yes, Sir; I quite understand.

BUILDER. If the law thinks it can force me to be one of your weak-kneed
sentimentalists who let everybody do what they like--

RALPH. There are a good many who stand on their rights left, John.

BUILDER. [Absorbed] What! How can men stand on their rights left?

JOURNALIST. I'm afraid you had a painful experience, sir.

BUILDER. Every kind of humiliation. I spent the nigh