Garside's Career: A Comedy in Four Acts

by Harold Brighouse

Mar. No. Youth is a gift we both possess. I don't intend to waste mine, Peter.

Peter. No? Well, you've me before you as an awful warning. I'm a living cautionary tale. I'm—— O, what's the good of talking?

Mar. Here's a change of front! You used to tell me talking was the finest thing you knew.

Peter. Margaret, have you no reverence at all?

Mar. For talking?

Peter. For human suffering. You're mocking at my life's tragedy. You hummed a tune just now you must have known was agony to me. My home in Midlandton! It's like living in an ashpit.

Mar. Oh, no, it's not, and if it is, the microbes can be happy in their insignificance.

Peter (solemnly). I shall not know happiness again.

Mar. Oh, need you keep it up with me, Peter?

Peter (surprised). Keep what up?