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Sutro, Alfred, 1863-1933

"Five Little Plays"


And she gave it. Nothing between us, I swear--but just that. As Tom says,
I've not been such a cur--and _you_ ought to know me well enough, after
all these years!... But there is the truth--she's fond of me: she is, it's
a fact. And I _needed_ that fondness--it has kept me going. And now--do
you think I'll let her be thrust out into the street?
[_As he says these last words he drops into a chair, facing her,
and looks fiercely and doggedly at her._
MRS. WESTERN. [_Calmly._] Stop now, and listen to me. I've let you rattle
on. Will you hear me for one moment?
HARVEY. Go on.
MRS. WESTERN. All those things you've said about me--[_With a shrug._]
Well, what's the use? I suppose we're like most married people when they
come to our age. I've interests of my own, that don't appeal to you--
HARVEY. Blue-books and Committees!
MRS. WESTERN. I do useful work--oh yes, you may sneer--you always have
sneered! If a woman tries to do something sensible with her life, instead
of cuddling and kissing you all day, she's cold and cruel. We've drifted
apart--well, your fault as much as mine. More, perhaps--but it's no good
going into that--no good making reproaches. That's how things are--we must
make the best of them. Wait, let me finish. About this girl. Granted that
what you say is true--and I'm inclined to believe it--
HARVEY. [_Genuinely grateful._] At least thank you for that!
MRS. WESTERN. Or at any rate it's better policy to believe it, for every
one's sake--
HARVEY.


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