ACT II
and daughter just like me and dad, and Mr. Taylor’s something of dad’s cut, too. But Miss Taylor’s much handsomer than ever I was; a really big girl, she is, and such lovely red hair . . . hardly natural, it looks, but I don’t think she touches it up.
Chris : Did it look nice? The place, I mean, not her hair.
Margaret : Yes, very nice. Just like old times. Oh, it was queer being there again . . . and, do you know, when we got to the ferry, Mr. Grey says, “But, mercy, Margaret, there’s water all round it!’ And I said, “William, that’s just it.” More tea, Chris?
Chris : No, thanks.
Margaret : Just one more cup. (He passes it.) I did wish I was back there, but of course I could never have kept it on alone, and Mr. Grey has no experience of the innkeeping business, and I think he’d find it lonely. He’s a sociable man, and Monkey Island’s not much for company.
Chris : What did you do . . . after you left it?
Margaret : I had a bad time for a bit. I was a mother’s help, first of all with an Irish family that had seen better days . . . nice people they were . . . but they ran away and left me in a hotel in Brighton, with my wages owing and the bill not paid. Why did they do it? I liked them so. The baby was a darling, and Mrs. Murphy
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