That's the secret of your success. You can't think
how sick they get of being treated with the respect due to their sex.
CHARTERIS. Ah, if Julia only had your wisdom, Craven! (He gets off the
table with a sigh and perches himself reflectively on the stepladder.)
SYLVIA. She can't take things easy, can she, old man? But don't you be
afraid of breaking her heart: she gets over her little tragedies. We
found that out at home when our great sorrow came.
CHARTERIS. What was that?
SYLVIA. I mean when we learned that poor papa had Paramore's disease.
But it was too late to inoculate papa. All they could do was to
prolong his life for two years more by putting him on a strict diet.
Poor old boy! they cut off his liquor; and he's not allowed to eat
meat.
CHARTERIS. Your father appears to me to be uncommonly well.
SYLVIA. Yes, you would think he was a great deal better. But the
microbes are at work, slowly but surely. In another year it will be
all over. Poor old Dad! it's unfeeling to talk about him in this
attitude: I must sit down properly. (She comes down from the settee
and takes the chair near the bookstand.
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