The Benefit of the Doubt; a Comedy in Three Acts

by Arthur Wing Pinero

[With a grating laugh.] That’s ma all over; she always goes through this process when there’s a family crisis. [To Theophila.] Do you remember, Phil?

Theophila.

[Stonily.] What?

Justina.

Directly the news of poor pa’s death came, ma took off her corsets.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Rising.] I shall go out; people shall see me walking boldly through the streets: Portland Place—Regent Street—[in agitation]—Fletcher Portwood, with his head up—his head up, they’ll say. [He paces the room, and comes upon Claude, who is sitting at the writing-table, writing a telegram, his eyes bolting and a generally vacuous expression on his face.] And you! when are you going to do something in the world besides idling, and loafing, and living upon your mother——?

Claude.

[Rising, disconcerted.] What’s that to do with it?

Sir Fletcher Portwood.