There's a mistake, miss, I can't explain. Some other time, miss!
See, miss, how cold and stern he looks! another time, miss!
(Struggling.) For God's sake, miss, let me go!

Miss Mary. No! This mystery must be cleared up now, before I
enter HIS house,--before I accept the charge of this--

Starbottle (interrupting, and crossing before MISS MARY). A
moment--a single moment, miss. (To OAKHURST.) Mr. Morton, you
will pardon the exuberance, and perhaps, under the circumstances,
somewhat natural impulsiveness, of the--er--sex, for which I am
perhaps responsible; I may say--er--personally, sir,--personally
responsible--

Oakhurst (coldly). Go on, sir.

Starbottle. The lady on my right is--er--the niece of your
father,--your cousin. The lady on my left, engaged in soothing
the--er--bashful timidity of infancy, is--er--that is--er--claims
to be, the mother of the child of Alexander Morton.

Oakhurst (calmly). She is right.

Miss Mary (rushing forward). Then you are--

Oakhurst (gently restraining her). You have another question to
ask: you hesitate: let me ask it. (Crossing to the DUCHESS.) You
have heard my answer. Madam, are you the legal wife of Alexander
Morton?