Zina. Oh I am so sorry she is dead. She must have been such a good mother.
Halcom. She was indeed good, and beautiful as yourself. (Advances, kisses her forehead and turns away. Enter Sherman, L. U. E.)
Sherman. What, that little rebel owl again?
Halcom. Prattling of the incongruous things of life, like the child she is.
Sherman. The jade! I suppose she would assist that scoundrel she calls her master, if she could.
Halcom. She asks me to intercede with you, that she may go back to her old home again.
Sherman. And concoct some scheme of assassination with that brute who has escaped.
Zina. Please let me go to my home. (Drops on knee.)
Sherman. (Sharply.) You will remain.
Halcom. She is an innocent, artless child, General.