THE CUSTOMER. Please let me up! If I wait two minutes longer, I might as well shoot myself.
THE BARBER. I shan't object, sir.
THE CUSTOMER. Oh! Oh! Oh!
THE BARBER. So you are beginning to feel some regrets? I'm glad to see it. I always thought you'd regret sooner or later. (Shaving.) By the way, sir, haven't you recognized me yet?
THE CUSTOMER. Recognized you?
THE BARBER. Oh, I see. You thought I was just a lunatic. Well,
I'm not. Look at me. Look at me closely.
THE CUSTOMER. I don't know you!
THE BARBER. No? Well, just say to yourself, "Twelve years ago this man's hair was not so gray. Twelve years ago this man's face didn't show so many lines of care. Twelve years ago this man lived—well, in a little town near Savannah, and—"
THE CUSTOMER. (Beginning to recognize him) You-you can't be—
THE BARBER. Say it.