” “I believe you,” she murmured. ‘The fact of it is,’ I said, ‘I’m the new playwright, Thomas More. “I hope you will not compel me to say again that I do not know the man’s name, nor, to the best of my belief, have I ever seen him before in my life. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. But recently he had asked God to pile it all on him; and God had added this, with a fresh portion for Ruth. ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone. " "They are useless," she returned. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious.
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