Waste
Waste
A Tragedy, In Four Acts
Book Excerpt
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BLACKBOROUGH. [Indifferently.] Oh, I'm glad he's with us on the Church question ... so far.
MRS. FARRANT. So far as you've made up your minds? The electoral cat will jump soon.
BLACKBOROUGH. [A little beaten by such polite cynicism.] Well ... our conservative principles! After all we know what they are. Good-night, Mrs. O'Connell.
AMY O'CONNELL. Good-night.
FARRANT. Your neuralgia better?
AMY O'CONNELL. By fits and starts.
FARRANT. [Robustly.] Come and play billiards. Horsham and Maconochie started a game. They can neither of them play. We left them working out a theory of angles on bits of paper.
WALTER KENT. Professor Maconochie lured me on to golf yesterday. He doesn't suffer from theories about that.
BLACKBOROUGH. [With approval.] Started life as a caddie.
WALTER KENT. [Pulling a wry face.] So he told me after the first hole.
BLACKBOROUGH. What's this, Kent, about Trebell's makin
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