"
--_Falls on a chair._
PREPOSTEROUS UNCLE. "Dear, noble, manly fellow."
EVERYBODY ELSE. "Unbearable brute."
_Enter_ BLANCHE POMEROY. "Do I see my dear cousin? I am glad to see you,
but please don't tear all of my dress to pieces."
PETER. "_Jewhillikins!_" "You used to not to mind abaout havin' your
frock torn when you was up at Graniteville. But I s'pose society has
sp'iled you."
_Enter_ PLAUSIBLE VILLAIN, _and whispers to_ BLANCHE--"To-night you must
fly with me. We have not a moment to lose."
PETER. "_Jewhillikins!_ That is the chap that deserted his wife in
Graniteville? I'll fix him."
PLAUSIBLE VILLAIN. "What do I see? A virtuous rustic? Confusion! Can he
suspect me?"
PETER _devotes himself to the virtuous task of insulting every person in
the room, thereby proving how much superior a cow-boy from New Hampshire
is to the wretched resident of the city, whom fate has made a base
and villainous gentleman. The_ PLAUSIBLE VILLAIN _goes through with
a complicated fit of St. Vitus's Dance, by way of preserving a cool
exterior, and thus allaying the suspicions of_ PETER.
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