BIJAH. Oh, come, Polly, I didn't mean any harm.
POLLY. Oh no, no harm, of course not. Kissing every girl you meet. Don't speak to me—I'll never trust you or any other man again.
POTTS. What is this? An indignation meeting? Bijah quarrelling with a pretty woman? No, yes, it is—Polly Primrose; but who is this? (_Looking at_ DOR.)
POLLY. That she is; but she's never too tired to tell fortunes; wouldn't you like to hear yours?
ROGER. Anything to kill time. (_Goes to_ DOR.) Come, let's hear it. My time is short. (_Looking about._) No danger of the colonel's appearance, is there, Potts?
POTTS. No, Roger, he is busily engaged. I've looked out for that.
ROGER. Good! Now, what is the wheel of fortune to bring me? Oh! (_Crosses_ DOR.'S _palm with silver_.) I remember, no golden treasure disclosed, unless the key be silver.
DOR. (_taking_ ROGER'S _hand; disguised voice_). Young man, you have had serious trouble; some cloud hangs over you. You are suspected of some crime.
ROGER (_starting_). What witchcraft is here?
DOR. But you are innocent. If you have patience, your name will soon be cleared.
DOR. You have a good heart, and, let me see—yes—that line is crossed—you have given it to some one.
(_Exeunt_ POLLY _and_ BIJAH _through trees_, L.)
POTTS (_slapping_ ROGER _on back; laughs_). You are hard hit, old man. Even the witches can read your heart.
DOR. (_addressing_ POTTS). Your time is coming, sir. “He laughs best who laughs last.”
ROGER. Ha, ha! Potts, some time that heart of yours won't stand the fire. Then I will charter a Gatling gun to return all your volleys.
DOR. (_looking at_ ROGER'S _hand_). But what is this? Some danger lurks near a friend; perhaps a brother.
DOR. (_excitedly_). Yes, yes. You must save him. He shall owe his life to you. Some one calling himself friend is his foe. (_Rising; forgets, and assumes natural voice._) He has done you a grievous wrong, but you will forgive that?
ROGER. That voice! (_Raises_ DOROTHY'S _veil_.) Dorothy?
POTTS. Cleverly done, little maid. You actually waited eight minutes. (_Looks at watch._)
ROGER. Major! Dorothy, what does this mean?
POTTS. A well-laid scheme, Roger, to hold a stolen interview with you. Miss Dorothy, you can talk with Roger just five minutes, no longer. The colonel will return by that time.