This should be
something
queer.
Lascelle Abercrombie
God bless you, Jean, my sweetheart. --Not a word?
But you will thank me soon for leaving you:
'Tis the best courtesy I can do.
[_He goes_.
_Jean_.
O, and I thought it was my love at last!
I thought, from the look he had last night, I'd found
That great, brave, irresistible love! --But this!
It's like a man deformed, with half his limbs.
Am I never to have the love I dream and need,
Pouring over me, into me, winds of fire?
HAMISH _comes in_.
_Hamish_.
Well? What's the mood to-night? --The girl's been crying!
This should be something queer.
_Jean_.
It's you are to blame:
You brought him here!
_Hamish_.
It's Morris this time, is it?
And what has he done?
_Jean_.
He's insulted me.
And you must never let me see him again.
_Hamish_.
Sure I don't want him seeing you. But still,
If I'm to keep you safe from meeting him--
_Jean_.
To look in his eyes would mortify my heart!
_Hamish_.
Then you'ld do right to pay me.
_Jean_.
