Jack (stares, then gives vent to a long whistle of astonishment). Well, you women!
Maude Don't talk to me. I am disgusted!
Jack (ruefully). Well! (He stares, folds napkin, unfolds it and takes up his newspaper.)
Maude Don't sit there, just saying "Well" all the time!
Jack (slowly). Say, what is it to you?
Maude (sobs a little). She h-has deceived me–basely deceived me. But I don't care. I shall send her a cut-glass berry dish,–maybe a Tiffany c-c-cut! (dries her eyes resolutely). Coffee, dear?
Jack (irritably; a trifle suspicious yet). Yes, don't I always take coffee?
Maude (plaintively). Don't scold me. I cannot endure much more. To think Valeria–
Jack (with decision, carving the steak). Don't think, then. Drop it. What's your other letter?
Maude (sadly). I don't care–I don't care for anything. (takes a biscuit). The biscuits are burned.