WELLWYN. [Delicately.] Yes; yes--I remember, you found it difficult
to stay long in any particular--yes.
FERRAND. [Proudly.] In one little corner? No--Monsieur--never!
That is not in my character. I must see life.
WELLWYN. Quite, quite! Have some cake?
[He cuts cake.]
FERRAND. In your country they say you cannot eat the cake and have
it. But one must always try, Monsieur; one must never be content.
[Refusing the cake.] 'Grand merci', but for the moment I have no
stomach--I have lost my stomach now for two days. If I could smoke,
Monsieur! [He makes the gesture of smoking.]
WELLWYN. Rather! [Handing his tobacco pouch.] Roll yourself one.
FERRAND. [Rapidly rolling a cigarette.] If I had not found you,
Monsieur--I would have been a little hole in the river to-night--
I was so discouraged. [He inhales and puffs a long luxurious whif of
smoke. Very bitterly.] Life! [He disperses the puff of smoke with
his finger, and stares before him.] And to think that in a few
minutes HE will be born! Monsieur! [He gazes intently at WELLWYN.]
The world would reproach you for your goodness to me.
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