By my submitting to be ruled in all things for the
remainder of my life by my own servants.
BENNET. Say "relations," and it need not sound so unpleasant.
FANNY. Yes, it would. It would sound worse. One can get rid of
one's servants. [She has crossed towards the desk. Her cheque-book
lies there half hidden under other papers. It catches her eye. Her
hand steals unconsciously towards it. She taps it idly with her
fingers. It is all the work of a moment. Nothing comes of it. Just
the idea passes through her brain--not for the first time. She does
nothing noticeable--merely stands listless while one might count half
a dozen--then turns to him again.] Don't you think you're going it a
bit too strong, all of you? I'm not a fool. I've got a lot to
learn, I know. I'd be grateful for help. What you're trying to do
is to turn me into a new woman entirely.
BENNET. Because that is the only WAY to help you. Men do not put
new wine into old bottles.
FANNY. Oh, don't begin quoting Scripture. I want to discuss the
thing sensibly. Don't you see it can't be done? I can't be anybody
else than myself. I don't want to.
BENNET. My girl, you've GOT to be. Root and branch, inside and
outside, before you're fit to be Lady Bantock, mother of the Lord
Bantocks that are to be, you've got to be a changed woman.
A pause.
FANNY. And it's going to be your job, from beginning to end--yours
and the rest of you. What I wear and how I look is Jane's affair.
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