The language of the heart is simplicity. Our little supper is from the heart.
MALLORY.
Ah, I shall never forget your little suppers in the Albany—where were they from?
QUECKETT.
Gunters', Jack. [With a groan.] Oh! [ Jane, at the door, hands to Tyler a very small pudding in a silver basin, which he places before Queckett.]
RANKLING, MALLORY, AND SAUNDERS.
[To themselves.] The pudding! [They exhibit great eagerness to get a view of the pudding. ]
PEGGY.
[Behind Mallory's bach.] Oh, how shameful it looks!