Mrs. Dot: A Farce

by W. Somerset Maugham

Mrs. Dot.

And of course she accepted. The girl of eighteen always does.

Gerald.

But Lady Sellenger refused to hear of it. She thought me most ineligible.

Mrs. Dot.

Lady Sellenger’s a sensible woman. She was quite right.

Gerald.

I’m not so sure. If she’d given us her blessing and told us to do as we liked, we should probably have broken it off in three weeks. But she was really rather offensive about it. She refused to let Nellie see me, and the result was that we were always running across one another in Bond Street tea-shops.

Mrs. Dot.

Monstrous! And so bad for the digestion.