You will, of course, say
nothing of my intention.
Jackson. Yes, sir. (Lingering.)
Oakhurst (after a pause). That is all, Mr. Jackson.
Jackson. Beg your pardon, Mr. Morton; but Col. Starbottle, with
two ladies, was here half an hour ago, and said they would come
again when you were alone.
Oakhurst. Very well: admit them.
Jackson. Beg pardon, sir; but they seemed to avoid seeing your
father until they had seen you. It looked mysterious, and I
thought I would tell you first.
Oakhurst (laughing). Admit them, Mr. Jackson. (Exit JACKSON.)
This poor fellow's devotion is increasing. He, too, believes that
his old associate in dissipation, John Oakhurst, IS the son of
Alexander Morton. He, too, will have to share in the disgrace of
the impostor. Ladies! umph! (Looking down at his clothes.) I'm
afraid the reform of Alexander Morton hasn't improved the usual
neatness of John Oakhurst. I haven't slept, nor changed my
clothes, for three days. (Goes to door of MORTON, sen.'s, room.)
Locked, and the key on the inside! That's strange. Nonsense! the
old man has locked his door and gone out through the private
entrance. Well, I'll find means of making my toilet here. [Exit
into private room L.
Enter JACKSON, leading in COL. STARBOTTLE, MISS MARY, the DUCHESS,
and child of three years.
Jackson. Mr. Alexander Morton, jun., is in his private room. He
will be here in a moment.
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