Wid. (Collaring him.) Murder—what murder do you allude to? Who’s done it, sir? Speak!
Twill. Asy, Mr. Widgetts—asy, sir—sure I know you’ve been taking a drop too much.
Wid. A drop! (Aside.) The word puts me in a cold perspiration. Oh, ay! Ha, ha, ha! You may go, Twill; I sha’n’t want you any longer. Stop! You haven’t had any enjoyment lately; there’s an order for the Adelphi; go there, my boy, and be happy. (Gives him a card.)
Twill. Oh, thank you, sir. May be I’m not a lucky boy.
[Exit Twill hastily, L.
Wid. Now he’s gone, I can reflect upon my terrible situation. She must be removed. But how? That’s the point.
He stands, buried in thought, as MARY WHITE, disguised as a boy, wearing an old blouse, enters.
Mary. Aei—aei—yoo—
Wid. Eh! Who are you? What do you want?
Mary. E-eh? You must speak up, I’m rather hard of hearing.