I left him too.
DELIA. Why?
BELINDA (smiling to herself). Well, you see, he was quite certain
he knew how to manage women, and I was quite certain I knew how to
manage men. (Thoughtfully.) If only one of us had been certain,
it would have been all right.
DELIA (seriously). What really happened, mummy? I'm grown up now,
so I think you ought to tell me.
BELINDA (thoughtfully). That was about all, you know ... except
for his beard.
DELIA. Had he a beard? How funny!
BELINDA. Yes, dear, it was; but he never would see it. He took it
quite seriously.
DELIA. And did you say dramatically, "If you really loved me, you'd
take it off"?
BELINDA (apologetically). I'm afraid I did, darling.
DELIA. And what did _he_ say?
BELINDA. He said--_very_ rudely--that, if I loved _him_, I'd
do my hair in a different way.
DELIA. How ridiculous!
BELINDA (touching her hair). Of course, I didn't do it like this
then. (With a sigh.) I suppose we never ought to have married,
really.
DELIA. Why did you?
BELINDA. Mother rather wanted it. (Solemnly.) Delia, never get
married because your mother--Oh, I forgot; _I'm_ your mother.
DELIA. And I don't want a better one. ... And so you left each
other?
BELINDA. Yes.
DELIA. But, darling, didn't you tell him there was going to be a Me?
BELINDA.
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