Mrs. Dot: A Farce

by W. Somerset Maugham

Blenkinsop.

I lie awake at night thinking of you, and when I fall asleep I seem to hold you in my arms.

Mrs. Dot.

That’s splendid. Why couldn’t you say all this before?

Blenkinsop.

Dot, Dot, don’t torture me. Don’t you see I mean it.

Mrs. Dot.

What!

Blenkinsop.

I’m not jesting now. I wish to heaven I were.