Four Short Plays by John Galsworthy
page 55 of 75 (73%)
page 55 of 75 (73%)
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[In a terrible voice] Mr Foreson. FORESON. Sir? VANE. Look--at--that--shade! [FORESON mutters, walks up to it and turns it round so that the light shines on HERBERT'S legs.] On his face, on his face! [FORESON turns the light accordingly.] FORESON. Is that what you want, Mr Vane? VANE. Yes. Now, mark that! FORESON. [Up into wings Right] Electrics! ELECTRICS. Hallo! FORESON. Mark that! VANE. My God! [The blue suddenly becomes amber.] [The blue returns. All is steady. HERBERT is seen diverting himself with an imaginary cigar.] |
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