endeavors to re-assure her. COL. STARBOTTLE looks in astonishment
from one to the other, and advances to front.

Col. Starbottle (aside). The--er--tableau, although striking in
moral force, is apparently--er--deficient in moral stamina.

Miss Mary (angrily to the DUCHESS). I'm ashamed of you! (To
OAKHURST, advancing.) I don't ask pardon for my intrusion. If you
are Alexander Morton, you are my kinsman, and you will know that I
cannot introduce myself better than as the protector of an injured
woman. Come here! (To the DUCHESS, dragging her towards OAKHURST.
To OAKHURST.) Look upon this woman: she claims to be--

Starbottle (stepping between MISS MARY and the DUCHESS). A moment,
Miss Mary, a single moment! Permit me to--er--explain. The whole
thing, the--er--situation reminds me, demn me, of most amusing
incident at Sacramento in '52. Large party at Hank Suedecois: know
Hank? Confirmed old bach of sixty. Dinner for forty. Everything
in style, first families, Ged,--Judge Beeswinger, Mat Boompointer,
and Maje Blodgett of Ahlabam: know old Maje Blodgett? Well, Maje
was there. Ged, sir, delay,--everybody waiting. I went to Hank.
"Hank," I says, "what's matter? why delay?"--"Star," he says,--
always called me Star,--"Star,--it's cook!"--"Demn cook," I says:
"discharge cook,--only a black mulatto anyway!"--"Can't, Star," he
says: "impossible!"--"Can't?" says I.--"No," says he. "Listen,
Star," he says, "family secret! Honor! Can't discharge cook,
because cook--demn it--'s MY wife!" Fact, sir, fact--showed
marriage certificate--married privately seven years! Fact, sir--

The Duchess (to MISS MARY). Some other time, miss, let us go now.