Bly Monologue from Windows

From Windows by John Galsworthy

male · melancholic · 48 sec

I'll have a flower for you. What'd you like--daffydils? (FAITH: No; one with a scent to it.) I'll ask at Mrs Bean's round the corner. She'll pick 'em out from what's over. Never 'ad much nose for a flower meself. I often thought you'd like a flower when you was in prison. (FAITH: Did you? Did you really?) Ah! I suppose I've drunk more glasses over your bein' in there than over anything that ever 'appened to me. Why! I couldn't relish the war for it! And I suppose you 'ad none to relish. Well, it's over. So, put an 'eart into it.

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