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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"One Day More A Play In One Act"


(_A muffled periodical bellowing had been heard faintly for some time_.)
Harry (_On the alert_). What's this? Who's making this row? Hark!
Bessie, Bessie. It's in your house, I believe.
Bessie (_Without stirring, drearily_). It's for me.
Harry (_Discreetly, whispering_). Good voice for a ship's deck in a
squall. Your husband? (_Steps out of lamplight_.)
Bessie. No. My father. He's blind. (_Pause_). I'm not married.
(_Bellowings grow louder_.)
Harry. Oh, I say. What's up? Who's murdering him?
Bessie (_Calmly_). I expect he's finished his tea. (_Bellowing continues
regularly_.)
Harry. Hadn't you better see to it? You'll have the whole town coming
out here presently. (_Bessie moves off_.) I say! (_Bessie stops_.)
Couldn't you scare up some bread and butter for me from that tea? I'm
hungry. Had no breakfast.
Bessie (_Starts off at the word "hungry," dropping to the ground the
white woollen shawl_). I won't be a minute. Don't go away.
Harry (_Alone; picks up shawl absently, and, looking at it spread out in
his hands, pronounces slowly_). A--dam'--silly--scrape. (_Pause. Throws
shawl on arm. Strolls up and down. Mutters._) No money to get back.
(_Louder_.) Silly little Ginger'll think I've got hold of the pieces
and given an old shipmate the go by. One good shove--(_Makes motion of
bursting in door with his shoulders_)--would burst that door in--I bet.


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