GREEN. What of her, Betsy?
BKTSY. It’s a shocking story, sir, but there’s no use concealing it—the young gentleman you quarrelled with was my mistress’s cousin—little Charley Bates that you’ve often heard her speak of.
GREEN. Her cousin! (GREENFINCH jumps up; MRS. G. then slips from under the cloak, places the carpet bag in the chair, covers it with the cloak, and enters the room, R. on tip toe) Little Charley?—no-o?
BETSY. Yes, indeed, sir, when you sent me out of the room, I made bold to listen; and hearing you both agree to fight a duel, I ran and told my mistress.
GREEN. Proceed, Betsy, proceed!
BETSY. Well, sir, though you had behaved shocking to her, she tried to prevent mischief; but, la, sir, she had only reached that door (points to door, 2 E. L.) and was trying to see what was going forward between you, when bang bang goes two pistols, and a bullet went right through the keyhole into my mistress’s eye.
GREEN. Betsy, support me! (leans on her) Her eye!
BETSY. With her last breath she sent you her blessing, sir, and the key of the tea caddy. (gives him a small key)
GREEN. Sweet, careful martyr!
BETSY. What a shock this will be to poor Master Charley, sir.