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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"Plays : First Series"

They're at the stile now. Oughtn't I to stop them, eh?
[He stands on tiptoe.] We must n't spy on them, dash it all. [He
drops the glasses.] They're out of sight now.
MISS BEECH. [To herself.] He said he wouldn't let her.
COLONEL. What! have you been encouraging them!
MISS BEECH. Don't be in such a hurry!
[She moves towards the hollow tree.]
COLONEL. [Abstractedly.] By George, Peachey, to think that Nell and
I were once--Poor Nell! I remember just such a night as this--
[He stops, and stares before him, sighing.]
MISS BEECH, [Impressively.] It's a comfort she's got that good young
man. She's found out that her mother and this Mr. Lever are--you
know.
COLONEL. [Losing all traces of his fussiness, and drawing himself up
as though he were on parade.] You tell me that my niece?
MISS BEECH. Out of her own mouth!
COLONEL. [Bowing his head.] I never would have believed she'd have
forgotten herself.
MISS BEECH. [Very solemnly.] Ah, my dear! We're all the same;
we're all as hollow as that tree! When it's ourselves it's always a
special case!
[The COLONEL makes a movement of distress, and Miss BEECH goes
to him.]
Don't you take it so to heart, my dear!
[A silence.


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