Cox. What shall part us?
Box. What shall tear us asunder?
Cox. Box!
Box. Cox! [About to embrace—Box stops, seizes Cox’s hand, and looks eagerly in his face.] You’ll excuse the apparent insanity of the remark, but the more I gaze on your features, the more I’m convinced that you’re my long lost brother.
Cox. The very observation I was going to make to you!
Box. Ah—tell me—in mercy tell me—have you such a thing as a strawberry mark on your left arm?
Cox. No!
Box. Then it is he!
[They rush into each other’s arms.
Cox. Of course we stop where we are?