Wheeler. Very well, let it be as you please. (replaces money) As you have discarded my proffered help and refuse to allow me to aid you, it is needless to prolong this interview. (going)
Mrs. D. (pleadingly) George, is there nothing I can do to regain your affections?
Wheeler. Nothing.
Mrs. D. You disown me as your wife!
Wheeler. Merely wish to sever the bonds connecting us, and the sooner you leave this place the better I'll be pleased.
Mrs. D. Your wishes shall be complied with. To-morrow will find me once more in my humble cottage home awaiting the return of my reclaimed husband.
Wheeler. Thank you. Good by. (Exit Wheeler, hastily, L. 1 E. Mrs. D. does not notice his absence)
Mrs. D. But, oh, what a life of wretchedness, misery and woe it will be. (notices that she is alone) George, husband! (goes to L. 1 E., quickly) Gone! (returns, stops near C., places hand upon brow) Left alone in the street, a discarded wife. It is more than I can bear. Nellie—my child—come—(falls fainting to stage)
Re-enter Nellie, R. 1 E., running.