Dear Brutus by J. M. (James Matthew) Barrie
page 38 of 117 (32%)
page 38 of 117 (32%)
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ALICE. Ah! I thought so. Did he say what it was about me that made him want to have me here in Midsummer week? DEARTH. No, but I presumed it must be your fascination, Alice. ALICE. Just so. Well, I want you to come out with us to-night to watch him. DEARTH. Crack-in-my-eye-Tommy, spy on my host! And such a harmless little chap, too. Excuse me, Alice. Besides I have an engagement. ALICE. An engagement--with the port decanter, I presume. DEARTH. A good guess, but wrong. The decanter is now but an empty shell. Still, how you know me! My engagement is with a quiet cigar in the garden. ALICE. Your hand is so unsteady, you won't be able to light the match. DEARTH. I shall just manage. (He triumphantly proves the exact truth of his statement.) ALICE. A nice hand for an artist! DEARTH. One would scarcely call me an artist now-a-days. ALICE. Not so far as any work is concerned. |
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