Mr. C. (reseating himself). Yes, of course she did. I expected that, but Joe, I’m sure, believes that I am right. You see he didn’t dare to tell me his real opinion when his wife was there. Probably he will visit us a little later and convince you that you are wrong. But he didn’t have the courage to say so in the presence of his wife. Isn’t it too bad, Martha, that Joe hasn’t some of my independence?
Mrs. C. (a little angrily). I hope that Mr. Williams is not as stupid as you are—sometimes. (More angrily.) John, how very obstinate you are! You know well enough that I have the right of it, and yet you won’t admit it.
Mr. C. (slowly stirring his coffee). After all, Martha, I think I’ll have some coffee. Will you please pass me the milk?
Mrs. C. (with considerable temper). John Clark, I never get angry myself, never, but certainly you do try my patience—sorely. Now, I don’t want you to call that cream milk—again! Not again! (She rises from her chair.)
Mr. C. (still stirring his coffee). Martha, will you please pass me the—milk?
Mrs. C. (angrily stamping her foot). John Clark, how dare you!
Mr. C. (calmly). Martha, will you please pass me the milk!
Mrs. C. (in a furious temper, stamping her foot and then pounding upon the table). It ain’t milk—it ain’t!
Mr. C. (with mock seriousness). Martha! It ain’t! That is not grammatical. Oh, that terrible, terrible word—ain’t!
Mrs. C. (very furiously). I never said ain’t—never—never—never!