Imogen.
[Leaning upon his arm.] Heavens! I foretold this!
Tom.
[Grimly.] I know—"said so all along."
Imogen.
If he should withdraw his capital!
Tom.
[With clenched hands.] At least, that would enable me to write a melodrama.
Imogen.
Why?
[Leaning upon his arm.] Heavens! I foretold this!
[Grimly.] I know—"said so all along."
If he should withdraw his capital!
[With clenched hands.] At least, that would enable me to write a melodrama.
Why?