SARAH.
You little weazened, mincing, purse-mouthed Puritan!
RESOLUTE
(her fingers still in her ears).
I do not hear a word that you are saying.
SARAH
(starting to pull Resolute's fingers from her ears).
I'll make you hear, I warrant!
GOODY GLEASON
(moaning).
Alack! Alack! Will the posset never be done?
SARAH
(instantly remorseful).
Gran'am! Your posset! To think I could forget you! (Runs to fire.) And yet—and yet——(Looks in kettle.) Alas! Alas! I am not skilled in brewing.