Christopher Fry is dead. When I was a freshman I tried to get enough support to stage a production of The Lady's Not For Burning. It never happened, but I still have not found a play I should more like to be involved with, nor read a more affecting close than Thomas' insistence that he is well-brought-up, and will see Jennet home, though neither "knows where on earth it is".

I hope Mr. Fry is home. "And God have mercy on our souls."