Dol. And who is this lady with whom you now are?
Hil. Adrienne Lowville!
Dol. What! The daughter of Wm. Lowville, who owns Beachwood, eighteen miles from here, on the Essex road?
Hil. Oh, yes, sir! Do you know him?
Dol. Well, I’d like to know who don’t! Got a railroad in each pocket. But, about your husband—is he acquainted there?
Hil. Alas! yes! He is a constant visitor, and I more than suspect that his attentions to my mistress imply more than he wishes me to believe.
Dol. [Throws baby dress on table, R. 3 E.] Oh! That’s his game, is it? A case of throwing you over for her, eh?
Hil. I fear so, sir; for she is madly in love with him, and thinks him a saint. When I called him to account for his actions, he laughed at me. He then informed me that he would do as he pleased, and that I was not his wife at all; that ours was a mock marriage.
Dol. [Jumps up.] The deuce he did! Oh, the villain, to take advantage of a poor innocent girl.