Edward (who has turned away and don't see him). And this is the dress I am always to wear. I am Morris, son of Mary and big Peter! Oh, I can bear that; but to leave Mrs. Langdon—to be no longer her son—to have no right to her love—oh! oh! I shall die!
Morris. Good morning, brother.
Edward (without turning round). Good morning, Master Edward.
Morris. You seem angry with me; but you are wrong. If I have injured you, it is not my fault. I did not do it of my own will; and yet I have come to beg your pardon.
Edward. It is not your fault.
Morris. But—don't you love me?
Morris. I call you "brother," and you call me "sir."
Edward (with effort). Well, if you wish it, I will call you brother.
Morris. And love me like one?