Michael and His Lost Angel: A Play in Five Acts

by Henry Arthur Jones

MICH. I may come to you some day.

(WITHYCOMBE puts his head in at door.)

WITHY. Now, sir, if yu plaise, we’me losing the tide—us shan’t get to Margaret’s avore supper-time.

FATHER H. I’m coming, Withycombe.

MICH. Withycombe, you’ll come and fetch me on Saturday morning.

WITHY. Saturday morning, twelve o’clock sharp, I’m here. Right you are, Mr. Feversham. Well and good.

(Exit.)

FATHER H. Good-bye.

MICH. Good-bye, Uncle Ned.