Michael and His Lost Angel: A Play in Five Acts

by Henry Arthur Jones

AUDR. Saint Decuman’s Island. You’ve built yourself a house over there, haven’t you?

MICH. The shrine was neglected and decayed. I restored it and built myself a couple of rooms round it. I’ve a few books, and just food and drink. I go over there sometimes for work and meditation.

AUDR. And yours is the only house on the island?

MICH. Yes.

AUDR. Isn’t it awfully lonely there?

MICH. (glancing at picture). I’m never alone.

AUDR. No, you have your millions and millions of good and bad angels, besides hundreds of cheap excursionists.

MICH. Yes, in the summer, but they only stay a few hours.

AUDR. I can see the smoke from your chimney quite plainly in the evening from my drawing-room windows. How far is it across?