Denham. Ye have to look before
ye, and pick your steps in this world; at any rate, when other
people are hurt by your slips. An irresponsible animal isn't a man.
Denham.
I wish we had a Court of Love, Miss Macfarlane, with you for
President. But, if you'll excuse me, I shall leave you with
Constance now. I know she would like to speak to you.
(_Exit._)
Miss Macfarlane.
Well, my dear, what is it? You see I claim the privilege of an old
friend.
Mrs. Denham.
I can bear my burden alone, Miss Macfarlane. (_Crosses_ C.)
Miss Macfarlane.
Of course you can, my dear. But there's no harm in a little honest
sympathy.
Mrs. Denham.
(_sobbing and embracing her_) Oh, I beg your pardon! But I am so
miserable, so miserable!
Miss Macfarlane.
There, there--that's right. (_Leads Mrs. Denham to sofa._) And now
you can tell me or not, just as you like.
Mrs. Denham.
What is there to tell? It is all over--that is all. (_She sits down,
weeping._)
Miss Macfarlane.
But what's all over? We sometimes think things are all over, when
they're only beginning. A thunderstorm's not the Day of Judgment.
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