Mr Siggie Morrison with his Comb and Paper

Blurb (Act I)
PARSONS: I’m beginning to feel what his friends must have gone through when they were really seeing him off. The longer they wait, the more improbably it is that the bloody plane will ever leave. They mouth platitudes to each other about every man having the unimpeachable right to die at home. They don’t look into each other’s eyes knowing that not one of them has even bothered to tell the old boy about pipe dreams, tobacco smoke delusions. What they mean, really, is that they ...