Dr. A. Lone orphan, go home; let me alone. I have no duchess, know no duchess. You are deceived. No, no, dear, go home.
"Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."
Abigail. O, you wretch! You mean, contemptible quack. You have read my album, my precious volume, and now refuse my request.
Dr. A. But, my dear young lady—
Abigail. Don't come near me! You've broken the heart of a lone orphan. You're a base, ungrateful, ugly, miserable pill-box! and I hope you'll never live to own an autograph album—there!
[Exit, L.
Dr. A. Good by, lone orphan. Now there's a case that requires immediate attention. Poor thing! I ought not to have let her go until her friends appeared. (Enter Dennis, L. Stands in door, beckoning to Dr. Aconite.) Hallo! who's that?
Dennis (mysteriously). Sh! sh! (Creeps down, C., beckoning to Dr. Aconite.)
Dr. A. Well, what is it?
Dennis. It's all right, docther, it's all right.