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by:
John Galsworthy
ACT I It is the night of Christmas Eve, the SCENE is a Studio, flushwith the street, having a skylight darkened by a fall of snow.There is no one in the room, the walls of which are whitewashed,above a floor of bare dark boards. A fire is cheerfullyburning. On a model's platform stands an easel and canvas.There are busts and pictures; a screen, a little stool, two arm.chairs, and a long...
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John Galsworthy
ACT I The time is morning, and the scene a level lawn, beyond whichthe river is running amongst fields. A huge old beech treeovershadows everything, in the darkness of whose hollow manythings are hidden. A rustic seat encircles it. A low wallclothed in creepers, with two openings, divides this lawn fromthe flowery approaches to the house. Close to the wall there isa swing. The sky is clear and sunny....
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John Galsworthy
THE FIRST AND LAST "So the last shall be first, and the first last."—HOLY WRIT. It was a dark room at that hour of six in the evening, when just the single oil reading-lamp under its green shade let fall a dapple of light over the Turkey carpet; over the covers of books taken out of the bookshelves, and the open pages of the one selected; over the deep blue and gold of the coffee service on...
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John Galsworthy
CHAPTER I Mayday afternoon in Oxford Street, and Felix Freeland, a little late, on his way from Hampstead to his brother John's house in Porchester Gardens. Felix Freeland, author, wearing the very first gray top hat of the season. A compromise, that—like many other things in his life and works—between individuality and the accepted view of things, aestheticism and fashion, the critical sense...
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John Galsworthy
PREFACE Writing not long ago to my oldest literary friend, I expressed in a moment of heedless sentiment the wish that we might have again one of our talks of long-past days, over the purposes and methods of our art. And my friend, wiser than I, as he has always been, replied with this doubting phrase "Could we recapture the zest of that old time?" I would not like to believe that our faith in...
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John Galsworthy
ACT I The MARCH'S dining-room opens through French windows on one of thosegardens which seem infinite, till they are seen to be coterminouswith the side walls of the house, and finite at the far end, becauseonly the thick screen of acacias and sumachs prevents another housefrom being seen. The French and other windows form practically allthe outer wall of that dining-room, and between them and the...
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John Galsworthy
ACT I It is Ascension Day in a village of the West. In the low panelled hall-sittingroom of the BURLACOMBE'S farmhouse on the village green, MICHAEL STRANGWAY, a clerical collar round his throat and a dark Norfolk jacket on his back, is playing the flute before a very large framed photograph of a woman, which is the only picture on the walls. His age is about thirty-five his figure thin and very...
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John Galsworthy
SCENE I It is just after sunset of an August evening. The scene is aroom in a mountain hut, furnished only with a table, benches.and a low broad window seat. Through this window three rockypeaks are seen by the light of a moon which is slowly whiteningthe last hues of sunset. An oil lamp is burning. SEELCHEN, amountain girl, eighteen years old, is humming a folk-song, andputting away in a cupboard...
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