It’s her.
(Mrs. Curtis comes in, but stops uncertainly near the entrance.)
MRS. CURTIS
Oh! I’m afraid I— (She turns to go.)
LANCELOT
Wait. I was just talkin’ to ’em about you.
MRS. CURTIS
You were, Mr. Briggs?
LANCELOT (to the others, reprovingly)
She never calls me Lancelot. Missuz—Missuz Curtis, I didn’t have to tell ’em; they’d already found out you were a widow. We don’t need to bother about that anyway.