Porter: Very well. (the doctor goes out, right, and Porter remains seated at his desk, staring gloomily before him)
Joe (comes on, puts down the empty trash-basket, and begins feeble pretense at dusting the bottles and boxes): Misteh Porteh, you didn’t see po Jimmie Valentine befo he died, did you? (silence) Ah spose you jes couldnt bear it. Lordy, but mah eyes is sore wid all dis cryin. (silence) Dat Docteh Walters is a stiff kindeh genleman, aint he, Misteh Porteh? (silence) He say he doan like to play detective, but he do it good, seem to me.
Porter (sternly): What do you know about that?
Joe (scared): Ah was comin, Misteh Porteh—Ah had to come in wid de trash-basket, Ah couldn’t hep hearin. Ah wasnt meanin to spy—de Lawd knows Ah aint no detective, naw suh! (silence) But you know (timidly) Ah was goin be yo body-servant, and kindeh look out fo you; an Ah know dat Docteh Walters is a stiff kindeh genleman—he’s a Yankee genleman, not like dey is in de South.
Porter: Get out of here now and stop your chatter.
Joe (goes right, towards the door into hospital; as he reaches the door a low murmur comes from the next room, and rises to a clamor of moans and protest; Joe looks off, then turns to Porter): Oh, Misteh Porteh, dey’s come to put dat po Jimmie Valentine in de wheel-barrow. An dey aint let his po ole Mammy see him! Oh, dat po feller! Oh, dat po feller! He’s daid an gone an dey goin to put him in de wheel-barrow! (his voice rises to a wail as he goes off right)
Porter (puts his hands to his ears to shut out the sounds; his manner indicating utter despair and breakdown): Oh, God! Oh, God! (as the clamor from the next room continues, he rises, looks about him cautiously, and then crosses to the shelf containing the bottle of alcohol. He takes a glass and starts to pour some out)
Joe (reappears in doorway, right, and watches Porter, then runs quickly to him in distress): Oh, Misteh Porteh, naw suh, you mussnt do dat, suh!
Porter (angrily): What the devil have you to do with it?
Joe (in frenzy of fear): Oh, Misteh Porteh, suh, dat Docteh Walters fin’ it out! Oh, suh, de Lawd hep us, suh, dey put you in de hole, dey take you down in de basement and paddle you, dey give you de water sho—you couldn’t stan it, Misteh Porteh, oh suh, please suh—doan let em ketch you takin it!