NELLY MORRIS.
What do you mean, Mrs. Wheedles? Have you been telling anyone of our poverty? Have you been asking for charity for us?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Lord help the child, no! How you do flare up. I haven't said a word to anyone. (Aside.) That's the truth anyhow.
NELLY MORRIS.
Please forgive me. I didn't mean to be cross. I know how kindly you meant it, but you don't understand. We're not so very poor, you know. Ted can't work if he eats heavily, and——(Turns away, choking a sob.)
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Ah, poor dears—and both as proud as lucifers, so that nobody can help 'em. Ah, well, my dear, I only just looked in to cheer you up a bit. There's nothing I can do for you, I suppose?
NELLY MORRIS.
No, thank you, Mrs. Wheedles. I'll get you to let Martha boil me a few potatoes later on.