Page:The worsted man; a musical play for amateurs, by John Kendrick Bangs.djvu/91

 -~ The Worsted Man soughing &quot;Ethelinda.&quot; Down by the waters of the silver lake the rippling wavelets yapping I mean lapping on the virgin sands seemed to whisper &quot;Ethelinda.&quot; Ethelinda. Oh Mis-ter Woolley! Doll. And then, beloved, we came to a spot where twenty roads spread out in twenty different ways, and finger-posts on each were marked To HAPPINESS. Ethelinda. (Clasping her hands ecstat ically.) Oh Mis Doll. But we took none of them, Ethelinda dear. No, said we, we ll go no farther Ethelinda. (Pouting). But why? Did we not wish for happiness? Doll. (Passionately.) Ah, no, my love, it was not that we had already found it. Ethelinda. Oh, ain t you grand! And er by-the-way, must I call you Mr. Woolley, now ?