The Magistrate: A Farce in Three Acts

by Arthur Wing Pinero

[Munching.] The only voice I recognise is the voice of hunger.

Agatha Posket.

I am overwrought, I suppose.

[Lukyn, with his head drooping, fetches the dish of oysters from the sideboard.

Vale.

[Behind the curtains.] He has taken the oysters. I’ve seen him do it.

Lukyn.

The oysters.

[Lukyn sinks into his chair at the table and leans his head upon his hand; the two women look at each other.