Mrs. P. O, sir, I don't value the place for its price, but for the many happy days I've spent here; that landscape, flat and uninteresting though it may be, is full of charm for me; those poor people, born around me, growing up about my heart, have bounded my view of life; and now to lose that homely scene, lose their black, ungainly faces; O, sir, perhaps you should be as old as I am, to feel as I do, when my past life is torn away from me.
M'Closky. I'd be darned glad if somebody would tear my past life away from me. Sorry I can't help you, but the fact is, you're in such an all-fired mess that you couldn't be pulled out without a derrick.
Mrs. P. Yes, there is a hope left yet, and I cling to it. The house of Mason Brothers, of Liverpool, failed some twenty years ago in my husband's debt.
M'Closky. They owed him over fifty thousand dollars.
Mrs. P. I cannot find the entry in my husband's accounts; but you, Mr. M'Closky, can doubtless detect it. Zoe, bring here the judge's old desk; it is in the library.
[Exit Zoe to house.
M'Closky. You don't expect to recover any of this old debt, do you?
Mrs. P. Yes; the firm has recovered itself, and I received a notice two months ago that some settlement might be anticipated.
Sunny. Why, with principal and interest this debt has been more than doubled in twenty years.
Mrs. P. But it may be years yet before it will be paid off, if ever.