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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"Plays : First Series"

]
Filling a sieve with sand!
ENID. Don't!
ANTHONY. You think with your gloved hands you can cure the trouble
of the century.
[He passes on. ]
ENID. Father!
[ANTHONY Stops at the double doors.]
I'm only thinking of you!
ANTHONY. [More softly.] I can take care of myself, my dear.
ENID. Have you thought what'll happen if you're beaten--
[she points]--in there?
ANTHONY. I don't mean to be.
ENID. Oh! Father, don't give them a chance. You're not well; need
you go to the meeting at all?
ANTHONY. [With a grim smile.] Cut and run?
ENID. But they'll out-vote you!
ANTHONY. [Putting his hand on the doors.] We shall see!
ENID. I beg you, Dad! Won't you?
[ANTHONY looks at her softly.]
[ANTHONY shakes his head. He opens the doors. A buzz of voices
comes in.]
SCANTLEBURY. Can one get dinner on that 6.30 train up?
TENCH. No, Sir, I believe not, sir.
WILDER. Well, I shall speak out; I've had enough of this.
EDGAR. [Sharply.] What?
[It ceases instantly. ANTHONY passes through, closing the doors
behind him. ENID springs to them with a gesture of dismay. She
puts her hand on the knob, and begins turning it; then goes to
the fireplace, and taps her foot on the fender.


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