Mrs. Hunter. Of course not; how dare you suggest such an injustice to your father, and before the flowers are withered on his grave!
[Again becoming tearful.
[Jordan enters Left with a small silver tray, heaping full of letters.
Has the new writing paper come?
Blanche. [Who takes the letters and looks through them, giving some to her mother.] Yes.
[Blanche reads a letter, and passes it to Jessica.
Mrs. Hunter. Is the black border broad enough? They said it was the thing.
Clara. If you had it any broader, you'd have to get white ink to write with!
Mrs. Hunter. [Sweetly.] Don't be impertinent, darling!
[Reading another letter.