ROBERT. (pointedly) Andy just left here.
RUTH. I know. I met him on the road a second ago. He told me you were here. (Tenderly playful) I wasn’t looking for Andy, Smarty, if that’s what you mean. I was looking for you.
ROBERT. Because I’m going away tomorrow?
RUTH. Because your mother was anxious to have you come home and asked me to look for you. I just wheeled Ma over to your house.
ROBERT. (perfunctorily) How is your mother?
RUTH. (a shadow coming over her face) She’s about the same. She never seems to get any better or any worse. Oh, Rob, I do wish she’d try to make the best of things that can’t be helped.
ROBERT. Has she been nagging at you again?
RUTH. (nods her head, and then breaks forth rebelliously) She never stops nagging. No matter what I do for her she finds fault. If only Pa was still living—— (She stops as if ashamed of her outburst) I suppose I shouldn’t complain this way. (She sighs) Poor Ma, Lord knows it’s hard enough for her. I suppose it’s natural to be cross when you’re not able ever to walk a step. Oh, I’d like to be going away some place—like you!
ROBERT. It’s hard to stay—and equally hard to go, sometimes.
RUTH. There! If I’m not the stupid body! I swore I wasn’t going to speak about your trip—until after you’d gone; and there I go, first thing!