Cecily.
I suppose so. But it seems very unfair. And was your novel ever
published?
Miss Prism.
Alas! no. The manuscript unfortunately was
abandoned. [
Cecily
starts.] I use the word in the sense of lost or mislaid. To
your work, child, these speculations are profitless.
Cecily.
[Smiling.] But I see dear Dr. Chasuble coming up through the
garden.
Miss Prism.
[Rising and advancing.] Dr. Chasuble! This is indeed a pleasure.
[Enter Canon
Chasuble.]
Chasuble.
And how are we this morning?
Miss Prism, you are, I trust, well?
Cecily.
Miss Prism has just been complaining of a slight headache. I think it
would do her so much good to have a short stroll with
you in the Park, Dr.
Chasuble.
Miss Prism.
Cecily, I have not mentioned anything about a headache.
Cecily.
No, dear Miss Prism, I know that, but I felt instinctively that you had
a headache. Indeed I was thinking about that, and
not about my German
lesson, when the Rector came in.
Chasuble.
I hope, Cecily, you are not inattentive.
Cecily.
Oh, I am afraid I am.
Chasuble.
That is strange. Were I fortunate enough to be Miss Prism’s
pupil, I would hang upon her lips. [
Miss Prism
glares.] I spoke
metaphorically.—My metaphor was drawn from bees. Ahem! Mr.
Worthing, I suppose, has not returned from town yet?
Dostları ilə paylaş: