Charles (aside). For particulars, see small bills.
Persis.—Beneath the pillow, which his ambrosial locks had pressed, I found this note, and this picture (shows photograph). Do you recognize it?
Charles (looks at photograph). Good heavens! My wife!
Persis. Your wife? Then you, like me, are a victim. I blush for my anger. Let us in each other’s arms mingle our tears (approaching Charles with arms extended).
Charles (backing to R.). Not just yet. Explain this, and at once.
Persis. Does it need explanation? Here is the picture, and here the note signed Rosa Bean. A clandestine correspondence. I see it all, at once. Under the pretext of a day’s sport, he comes here to make love to your wife.
Charles. The confounded scoundrel!
Persis. Speak gently of the erring. I love him. Yes, spite his faults, I love him still. I am here to save him—to save you. I am a succoring angel.
Charles. Give me that note (takes note). Not my wife’s handwriting; evidently disguised. O, Jenny, Jenny, have I lost-you?
Persis. O, Dixie, Dixie, have I lost you?