Fanny—Whither?
Bennett—To my office.
Fanny—What! Havn’t you the pluck to kill Wyckoff, and marry me, and all my jewels, and the vast possessions I have acquired through my grace and agility?
Bennett—Darm it, Fanny, no more to-day. Give me a parting kiss, and I will go, and we will resume this delightful theme to-morrow, when Wyckoff is promenading Broadway, or arranging your affairs at the Theatre and the printing offices. So, good-by, my adored Fanny—farewell, my precious solace and incomparable divinity.
Fanny—A fond adieu, my charming admirer. Come again to-morrow, or I shall die. (She cries like a female Crocodile.)
Bennett—Farewell.
Fanny—Farewell—my benefactor. O farewell!
(He goes, and Fanny leaps, and dances, and laughs, and screams, and wildly rejoices over his departure.)
The reader must now imagine the lapse of many years.
Bennett’s Office.