Or I'll shoot you like a dog, without objection.
Now, then—go, sir, or I'll fire!
Put your hands up!—higher! higher!
Wait here, Jenny: I'll just sever this connection.
[He backs J. B. out of the room at the muzzle of the pistol; Jenny listens for a while, and then sinks on a chair and cries.]
Jenny.
Just a horrid, dirty tramp!
What an awful, awful scamp!
Oh, what shall I say to Mama? Dearie, dear!
If I'd only minded her