SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 148 | Next

Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"Plays : First Series"

]
You might give her these. I got them specially for her, and I have
n't had a chance.
MISS BEECH. [Lifting a bottle.] What 's this?
DICK. Fizz. The Colonel brought it from the George. It 's for
supper; he put it in here because of--[Smiling faintly]--Mrs. Hope,
I think. Peachey, do take her those irises.
MISS. BEECH. D' you think they'll do her any good?
DICK. [Crestfallen.] I thought she'd like--I don't want to worry
her--you might try.
[MISS BEECH shakes her head.]
Why not?
MISS BEECH. The poor little creature won't let me in.
DICK. You've been up then!
MISS BEECH. [Sharply.] Of course I've been up. I've not got a
stone for my heart, young man!
DICK. All right! I suppose I shall just have to get along somehow.
MISS BEECH. [With devilry.] That's what we've all got to do.
DICK. [Gloomily.] But this is too brutal for anything!
MISS BEECH. Worse than ever happened to any one!
DICK. I swear I'm not thinking of myself.
MISS BEECH. Did y' ever know anybody that swore they were?
DICK. Oh! shut up!
MISS BEECH. You'd better go in and get yourself a partner.
DICK. [With pale desperation.] Look here, Peachey, I simply loathe
all those girls.


Pages:
136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160