Mr. S. You will never leave this place alive.
[Seizes Billy by the collar; lively melee ensues. Finally Mr. S. gets Billy on the floor, and draws a big pistol.
Mr. S. Scoundrelly wretch—die!
[Mrs. S. rushes forward and knocks up the pistol.
Mrs. S. Spare him, George: for he’s——
Billy. Just from home!
[Tableau. Flats close in.
[CURTAIN.]