This page needs to be proofread.
Lind.
Pray excuse me, friend.
I want a whiff of reason and the weed;
I haven't smoked for three whole days on end.
My blood was pulsing in such agitation,
I trembled for rejection all the time—
Falk.
Yes, you may well desire recuperation—
Lind.
And won't tobacco's flavour be sublime!
[Goes out to the right. Miss Jay and some other Ladies come out of the garden-room.
Miss Jay [to Falk].
That was <g>he</g> surely?
Falk.
Yes, your hunted deer.
Ladies.
To run away from us!
Others.
For shame! For shame!
Falk.
'Tis a bit shy at present, but, no fear,
A week of servitude will make him tame.
