Miss Mary (very slowly and quietly). No?
Jovita. No! (Passionately.) No, it is impossible. Forgive me,
Miss Mary: you are good; a better girl than I am. But think of me!
A year ago my lover leaped a wall at midnight to fly with me:
today, the day that gives me to him, he writes a few cold lines,
saying that he has business, BUSINESS--you understand--business,
and that he shall not see me until we meet in the presence of--of--
of--our fathers.
Miss Mary. Yes; but you will see him at least, perhaps alone.
Listen: it is no formal meeting, but one of festivity. My guardian
has told me, in his quaint scriptural way, it is the killing of the
fatted calf, over his long-lost prodigal. Have patience, little
one. Ah! Jovita, we are of a different race, but we are of one
sex; and as a woman I know how to accept another woman's abuse of
her lover. Come, come! [Exeunt MISS MARY and JOVITA.
SCENE 5.--The drawing-room of MR. MORTON'S villa. Large open arch
in centre, leading to veranda, looking on distant view of San
Francisco; richly furnished,--sofas, arm-chairs, and tete-a-tetes.
Enter COL. STARBOTTLE, C., carrying bouquet, preceded by SERVANT,
bowing.
Starbottle. Take my kyard to Miss Morris. [Exit SERVANT.
Starbottle. Star! This is the momentous epoch of your life! It
is a moment for which you--are--I may say alone responsible,--
personally responsible! She will be naturally gratified by the--
er--flowers.
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