(NANA supplicates him.) In vain, in vain, the proper place for you is the yard, and there you go to be tied up this instant.
(NANA again retreats into the kennel, and the children add their prayers to hers.)
MRS. DARLING (who knows how contrite he will be for this presently). George, George, remember what I told you about that boy.
MR. DARLING. Am I master in this house or is she? (To NANA fiercely) Come along. (He thunders at her, but she indicates that she has reasons not worth troubling him with for remaining where she is. He resorts to a false bonhomie.) There, there, did she think he was angry with her, poor Nana? (She wriggles a response in the affirmative.) Good Nana, pretty Nana. (She has seldom been called pretty, and it has the old effect. She plays rub-a-dub with her paws, which is how a dog blushes.) She will come to her kind master, won’t she? won’t she? (She advances, retreats, waggles her head, her tail, and eventually goes to him. He seizes her collar in an iron grip and amid the cries of his progeny drags her from
