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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"Plays : First Series"


MISS BEECH. Ah-h! [Ironically.] Poor lot, are n't they?
DICK. All right; chaff away, it's good fun, isn't it? It makes me
sick to dance when Joy's lying there. Her last night, too!
MISS BEECH. [Sidling to him.] You're a good young man, and you 've
got a good heart.
[She takes his hand, and puts it to her cheek.]
DICK. Peachey--I say, Peachey d' you think there 's--I mean d' you
think there'll ever be any chance for me?
MISS BEECH. I thought that was coming! I don't approve of your
making love at your time of life; don't you think I 'm going to
encourage you.
DICK. But I shall be of age in a year; my money's my own, it's not
as if I had to ask any one's leave; and I mean, I do know my own
mind.
MISS BEECH. Of course you do. Nobody else would at your age, but
you do.
DICK. I would n't ask her to promise, it would n't be fair when
she 's so young, but I do want her to know that I shall never change.
MISS BEECH. And suppose--only suppose--she's fond of you, and says
she'll never change.
DICK. Oh! Peachey! D' you think there's a chance of that--do you?
MISS BEECH. A-h-h!
DICK. I wouldn't let her bind herself, I swear I wouldn't.
[Solemnly.] I'm not such a selfish brute as you seem to think.


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