Mrs. Dot: A Farce

by W. Somerset Maugham

For heaven’s sake, don’t talk like that. You’re tearing my heart to pieces.

Mrs. Dot.

Your heart? I should like to bang it on the floor and stamp on it. You must expect to suffer a little. You can’t put it all on me.

Gerald.

I don’t want you to suffer.

Mrs. Dot.

[In a temper.] You were willing enough to marry me when you hadn’t got sixpence to bless yourself with. How fortunate your cousin didn’t die a week later!

Gerald.

Do you think I was proposing to marry you for your money?

Mrs. Dot.