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Milne, A. A. (Alan Alexander), 1882-1956

"First Plays"


EMILY (timidly). But I think you ought to consult him at little,
dear. After all, he _has_ been fighting for us.
JAMES (with his back to the fire). Now that's the sort of silly
sentiment that there's been much too much of. I object to it
strongly. I don't want to boast, but I think I may claim to have
done my share. I gave up my nephew to my country, and I--er--
suffered from the shortage of potatoes to an extent that you
probably didn't realize. Indeed, if it hadn't been for your
fortunate discovery about that time that you didn't really like
potatoes, I don't know how we should have carried on. And, as I
think I've told you before, the excess-profits tax seemed to me a
singularly stupid piece of legislation--but I paid it. And I don't
go boasting about how much I paid.
EMILY (unconvinced). Well, I think that Philip's four years out
there have made him more of a man; he doesn't seem somehow like a
boy who can be told what to do. I'm sure they've taught him
something.
JAMES. I've no doubt that they've taught him something about--er--
bombs and--er--which end a revolver goes off, and how to form
fours. But I don't see that that sort of thing helps him to decide
upon the most suitable career for a young man in after-war
conditions.
EMILY. Well, I can only say you'll find him different.


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