[And he fires. But he doesn't fall. Instead, the mirror cracks and a
puff of smoke comes from it. Alice must not interrupt the story or she
would; and she aches to, because she always fears the audience may not
grasp the point. Lord Eglantine was a reflection of his tim
the polished mirror of his age. Until he blew the reflection into
smithereens, he had no soul, no reality. A wig, a box of patches,
snuff, silk, lace, a clouded cane, a neat sense for words, that was
Eglantine, and now he has become, in all humility, a man. Back comes
Harlequin to find him.
HARLEQUIN. My lord!
EGLANTINE. A slight accident.
HARLEQUIN. The noise has wakened our neighbours.
EGLANTINE. On my honour it has wakened me.
HARLEQUIN. Richardson!
[Columbine appears.
Kindly pick up his lordship's pieces.
[She has her little dust-pan and brush, and most neatly she does so.
Eglantine--a new Eglantine--watches her, and the thought of a new life
is born in him.
EGLANTINE.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74