A monologue from the play by Jen Silverman
MARJORY
(She writes in Huldey’s diary.)
Monday: I polished. Tuesday: I polished and I cooked. Wednesday: I cooked more things and afterwards I scrubbed.
Thursday: It rained and Miss Emelie tracked mud everywhere and I cleaned it. Friday: I told Huldey to murder Miss Agatha.
(Musing.)
I should like to be in charge. Why should everybody else have a say but me? I’m the one with ideas. And my diary is full of action verbs.
And if people were to ask me questions, I should have a lot more to say for myself, because I’ve done a lot more, I’ve considered a lot more,
and I have a lot of thoughts about the moors and manual labour and the typhus, and also child-rearing,
and if Huldey does not kill Miss Agatha soon, I shall have to murder them both, although I would much prefer someone else to do it.
