Hillcrist monologue (Act 1) — The Skin Game (A Tragi-Comedy)

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.