Mary Broome: A Comedy, in Four Acts

by Allan Monkhouse

MRS. GREAVES. Sir?

LEONARD. I was only quoting Shakespeare, Mrs. Greaves.

MRS. GREAVES. I know nothing about him, sir.

LEONARD. He’s the man that writes the plays.

MRS. GREAVES. There’s some people too fond of plays and such things.

LEONARD. Now I hope you’re not going to attack Shakespeare, Mrs. Greaves.

MRS. GREAVES. I’m attacking nothing, sir, but I should like a word and perhaps it would be more pleasant if Mrs.—the lady wasn’t here.

LEONARD. Why mustn’t Mrs. the lady be here?

MRS. GREAVES. It’s as you like.