The Winged Beetle

MR TODD 187 a gentleman named Shaw that marriage is only a joke— no, not Shaw ! Vaughan, or Gorell Barnes, or some name like that ! EUPHEMIA. But you will, won’t you ? CARR. No, I won’t, will I ? [Sings.] “ I have a wife and bairnies three, And I’m no sure how ye’d agree, lassie ! ” EUPHEMIA. What ? [She releases herself. CARR. Well, the wife’s dead, as a matter of fact. Her name was Hope-of-ever-doing-something-in-the-Wide- Wide. But the bairns are alive : young Chemistry, already apt at repartee—I should say retort ; little Biology, who’s rather a worm between you and me and the gate- post ; and poor puny, puling, sickly little Metaphysics, with only one tooth in his upper jaw ! Oh, don’t cry ! I love you as I always did and always shall. I’ll see you through it somehow ! But don’t talk foolishness about marriage ! We are happy because when I come to see you I come to see you. If we were living together you would soon get to know me as the brute who grumbles at the cooking and wants to shut himself up and work—[mimicking her voice] “ And I wouldn’t mind so much if it were work, but all he does is to sit in a chair and smoke and stare at nothing and swear if any one comes in to ask him if my darling new old rose chiffon moiré Directoire corsets match my eau-de-Nil suede tussore appliqué garters.” See ? EUPHEMIA. But—hush ! [She flies away to the other end of the room. The door opens. Enter THOMAS.