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Start: George: (seeing Zoe) Poor child!...

An Octoroon

George Zoe

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Start: George: (seeing Zoe) Poor child! She must be so sad now, thinking she’ll have nowhere to go.

Zoe: (glancing at George) Poor fellow, he is poised to lose everything.

George: Zoe, with our ruin, you might be left without a home.

Zoe: O, no; think of yourself.

[... .. …]

End: Zoe: But no, no! If you cannot be mine - Oh, let me not blush when I think of you!

(Zoe exits, running)

George: Dearest Zoe!

Jacobs-Jenkins, Branden, An Octoroon, Dramatist Play Service Inc., 2015, pp. 30-31.

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