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Cassie. What’s the matter with you, anyhow? Was it your fault if a tramp got into the house when we was all out, and hit your father over the head to steal his money? when he was laying on that sofa> Twenty times I’d told him the catch of the front-door lock wouldn’t work, and he was too mean to have the locksmith in to fix it. And him the richest man in Cayuga... That wasn’t your fault was it?

Kate. (sobbing.) No... no...

Cassie. Well, don’t act as if it was, then. You know when he was asleep a foghorn wouldn’t have woke him up.

Volume 1. Plays, Kate Spain


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