Wid. Help! Murder! Police! Help!
Twill. (Dancing at door, L.) Police! Here’s an illigant row. Go it, little one—fire away, umbrella! She don’t lay it into him at all.
Wid. Stop, stop, stop! Spare the remnant of an injured tailor’s life. You think I cut off Mary White’s thread; but I didn’t! The horrid act was her own deed. She got jealous of me, and mixed her proud spirit with too much water. She’d tell you so herself, poor soul, if she could.
Mary. (Speaking inside folding doors in a solemn voice.) No, she wouldn’t.
Wid. Angels and bannisters support me. (Drops on his knees. Mdlle. Cheri Bounce throws herself into the arms of Brown. General consternation.) ’Tis her voice—her ghost is come back to walk the earth in them green boots. Injured shade, speak for me, if ghosts have parts of speech, and tell them I’m innocent.
Mary. (Inside.) You caused my death by your falsity.
Wid. O-oh! I know it; but sooner than you should have made an object of yourself, I’d have married you ten times over.
Mary. (Inside.) And would you marry me now, if I was living?
Wid. I would—to-morrow morning.