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PETERSON
Yes sir, it is one Mifs Hawkins gave me, she often gave me books and encouraged me to educate myself.
DISTRICT ATTORNEY
And all these papers and things are yours?
PETERSON
Yes sir.
DISTRICT ATTORNEY
Somebody wrote a letter that night and dried it upon one of these [blotters found in this portfolio], the closing lines may be easily read; now, they are [reversed], but a mirror will rectify that.
(Takes hand-mirror from table.)
Look me in the eye, sir! Look me in the eye! See if you can recognize this—
(Holds mirror before book & reads.)
"Heaven forgive me, I turned away too late. I saw Mifs Hawkins kill him. Burn this letter. From your affectionate son, John Peterson."
DUFFER
(Rises.)Nonsense! Nonsense! This is—
DISTRICT ATTORNEY
[Nonsense is it, you'll see what kind of nonsense it is.] Is this your handwriting?
PETERSON
(Now entirely demoralized.)Oh, I have ruined her. I have destroyed her.
DUFFER
(Rising, and interrupting with bitter sarcasm.)How charming this is! How melodramatic! How delightfully theatrical! Why it is like one of those sweet little juggling surprises that dramatists introduce to stir the souls of the pit with. O, do go on the stage with your looking glass and book, don' t let such a little bit of claptrap go to waste, I beseech you, for you only throw it away upon a grave and practical jury.
(Sits down.)
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