THE RETURN OF THE SOLDIER
Chris : I don’t want tea.
Margaret (rising) : Oh, but you must have tea. I wonder if this has got cold. (Feels the pot.) Do have a cup . . . do let me give you some.
Chris : All right . . . if you want me to.
[He rises too.
Margaret (pouring out) : It used to be milk and three lumps.
Chris : It still is.
Margaret : These cups are smaller than the ones at Monkey Island. (She passes the cup. He sits.) Anything to eat?
Chris : No, thanks. I miss your ducks’ eggs.
Margaret (pleased) : Oh . . . the ducks’ eggs. No one ever had ducks’ eggs like father did. It was his way of feeding them. It didn’t pay, of course, but they were good. Do you know, Chris . . . when you came down first to Monkey Island, you were so fine and good-looking I thought you must be someone royal . . . and then, when you kept on coming, I thought it must be the ducks’ eggs. They were good!
Chris : Yes. (They smile happily at each other.) But that wasn’t why I came.
Margaret : No. And then when we went down last year, they gave us duck and green peas for lunch, and I did think of dad. They were nothing like as good as his ducks, but, then, I expect they paid. A nice couple they are, father
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