Oh, Gawd—! Chick, don’—!
(He contrives to implant a prolonged kiss on her lips. At length, with a superhuman effort, she wrenches herself free, and retreats to the opposite side of the table. Chick starts to follow her, whereupon she runs around to the back of the table, where she stands, breathing heavily and weak from the struggle. Chick stands facing her—on the opposite side of the table and with back to the audience—his muscles taut, as though ready to lunge after her.)
LUCY BELLE (stretching out her arms beseechingly)
Don’, Chick—oh, don’—! Don’ come at me like dat!
CHICK
Luce—listen ter me—!
LUCY BELLE
Chick—! Please—! Sam—mah own Sam-boy—he’s mah lovah. He’s de onlies’ one—now!
CHICK
He ain’ nevah comin’ back ter yo’!