ttle.

THE CUSTOMER. Please let me up! If I wait two minutes longer, I
might as well shoot myself.

THE BARBER. I shan't object, sir.

THE CUSTOMER. Oh! Oh! Oh!

THE BARBER. So you are beginning to feel some regrets? I'm glad
to see it. I always thought you'd regret sooner or later.
(_Shaving._) By the way, sir, haven't you recognized me yet?

THE CUSTOMER. _Recognized_ you?

THE BARBER. Oh, I see. You thought I was just a lunatic. Well,
I'm not. Look at me. Look at me closely.

THE CUSTOMER. I don't know you!

THE BARBER. No? Well, just say to yourself, "Twelve years ago
this man's hair was not so gray. Twelve years ago this man's face
didn't show so many lines of care. Twelve years ago this man
lived--well, in a little town near Savannah, and--"

THE CUSTOMER. (_Beginning to recognize him_) You-you can't be--

THE BARBER. Say it.

THE CUSTOMER. Kilburn!

THE BARBER. Yes, Kilburn!

THE CUSTOMER. (_Hoarsely_) And you followed me about!

THE BARBER. For twelve years!

THF CUSTOMER. From town to town!

THE BARBER. I was never more than a week behind you.

THE CUSTOMER. (_With unutterable horror_) Good God!

THE BARBER. Yes, _God._ I used to think of Him a great deal,
John. I used to ask Him why He never brought you into my shop.

THE CUSTOMER. Oh! Oh!

THE BARBER. But He brought you here at last, John! He brought you
here at last! (_He pauses._) For twelve mortal years I've been
hoping for this day! Once, in Muscatine, you came in, but there
was another man in the chair, and you wouldn't wait. Once, in
Louisville, you crossed my threshold, looked at your watch, and
walked out again. But sooner or later, John, I knew you'd walk
into my shop, and sit down in my chair! That day has come! (_He
looks into his eyes._) You and I, John, the two of us, have a
long account to settle, haven't we? _I've_ been one of your
creditors, too! And this is the reckoning, John! You're going to
pay me--pay me in full--and you're going to pay me _now!_

THE CUSTOMER. What are you going to do?

THE BARBER. That's a hard question, John. I'd be justified in
cutting your throat, wouldn't I?

THE CUSTOMER. It would be murder!

THE BARBER. Ugly word, isn't it?

THE CUSTOMER. Murder in the first degree!

THE BARBER. Oh, of course!

THE CUSTOMER. They'd get you as sure as fate!

THE BARBER. I wouldn't run away.

THE CUSTOMER. But, Kilburn, think what you are doing!

THE BARBER. I've been thinking about it for