George loathed the very idea of crêpe and all display of mourning.

MRS. HUNTER. [_Feeling out of her element, changes the subject._] You
stayed behind?

RUTH. Yes. I wanted to be the last there. [_Her voice chokes; she tries
to control herself._] Ah! you see my nerves are all gone to pieces. I
_won't_ cry any more!

MRS. HUNTER. I don't see how you could bear it--staying; but you never
had any heart, Ruth.

RUTH. [_Mechanically, biting her lips hard to keep the tears back._]
Haven't I?

MRS. HUNTER. My darling husband always felt that defect in you.

RUTH. George?

MRS. HUNTER. He resented your treatment of me, and often said so.

RUTH. [_Very quietly, but with determination._] Please be careful. Don't
talk to me like this about my brother, Florence--or you'll make me say
something I shall be sorry for.

MRS. HUNTER. I don't care! It wore on him, the way you treated me. I put
up with it for his sake, but it helped undermine his health.

RUTH. Florence, stop!