Grammar.
ALICE. Her ... or she that runs away with he ... or him! She's a country
girl come to be a chambermaid in London. A singing chambermaid, she is;
they had them in the old plays, and it must have brightened the hotels
lots. And she's called Richardson for short. Harlequin's a valet in the
same house. And why they're servants now instead of actors is because it
was about this time people began to think that Art and Religion and Love
were things you could just ring the bell for, and up they would come and
wait on you. So this is another sort of a...symbol. And the gods have lost
their magic.
UNCLE EDWARD. [Much alarmed.] What?
ALICE. All right, Uncle; it's to make a surprise. [And then to reassure the
audience, who, bless them, aren't alarmed at all.] They really haven't, and
they never can. They may lose their magicky magic; for the world grows up
like we do. But Harlequin can still see deep into the hearts of men, and
Columbine's so sweet that you can't help loving her though you don't know
why. And that's the realest magic of all.
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