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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"The Pigeon"

MEGAN. Yes. I feels all right now.
[She sits up again on the little stool before the fire.]
WELLWYN. No shivers, and no aches; quite comfy?
MRS. MEGAN. Yes.
WELLWYN. That's a blessing. All well, now, Constable--thank you!
CONSTABLE. [Who has remained discreetly apart at the
door-cordially.] First rate, sir! That's capital! [He approaches
and scrutinises MRS. MEGAN.] Right as rain, eh, my girl?
MRS. MEGAN. [Shrinking a little.] Yes.
CONSTABLE. That's fine. Then I think perhaps, for 'er sake, sir,
the sooner we move on and get her a change o' clothin', the better.
WELLWYN. Oh! don't bother about that--I'll send round for my
daughter--we'll manage for her here.
CONSTABLE. Very kind of you, I'm sure, sir. But [with
embarrassment] she seems all right. She'll get every attention at
the station.
WELLWYN. But I assure you, we don't mind at all; we'll take the
greatest care of her.
CONSTABLE. [Still more embarrassed.] Well, sir, of course, I'm
thinkin' of--I'm afraid I can't depart from the usual course.
WELLWYN. [Sharply.] What! But-oh! No! No! That'll be all right,
Constable! That'll be all right! I assure you.


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