Hillcrist monologue (Act 9) — Plays : Fourth Series

Well, you won't be able to live in it unless we stop that ruffian. Chimneys and smoke, the trees cut down, piles of pots. Every kind of abomination. There! [He points] Imagine! [He points through the French window, as if he could see those chimneys rising and marring the beauty of the fields] I was born here, and my father, and his, and his, and his. They loved those fields, and those old trees. And this barbarian, with his "improvement" schemes, forsooth! I learned to ride in the Centry meadows--prettiest spring meadows in the world; I've climbed every tree there. Why my father ever sold----! But who could have imagined this? And come at a bad moment, when money's scarce.