MRS. HUNTER. Oh, I've _trifled_ with something.

JESSICA. Sit here, Aunt Ruth.

BLANCHE. Will you have a cup, Aunt Ruth?

RUTH. Yes, dear, I'm feeling _very_ hungry.

[_Sitting on the sofa beside_ JESSICA _and pressing her hand as she does
so._

MRS. HUNTER. Hungry! _How can you!_

RUTH. Because I'm not a _hypocrite_!

MRS. HUNTER. [_Whimpering._] I suppose that's a slur at me!

RUTH. If the slipper fits! But I confess I haven't eaten much for
several days; I couldn't touch anything this morning, and I begin to
feel exhausted; I must have food and, thank Heaven, I want it. Thank
you.

[_To_ BLANCHE, _taking the cup from her._

MRS. HUNTER. I think it's awful, Ruth, and I feel I have a right to say
it--I think you owed it to my feelings to have worn a long veil; people
will think you didn't love your brother.

RUTH. [_Dryly._] Will they? Let them! You know as well as I do that