HILLCRIST. [Smiling] Jill, I don't think I ever saw you so serious.
JILL. No. Because—[She swallows a lump in her throat] Well—I was just beginning to enjoy, myself; and now—everything's going to be bitter and beastly, with mother in that mood. That horrible old man! Oh, Dodo! Don't let them make you horrid! You're such a darling. How's your gout, ducky?
HILLCRIST. Better; lot better.
JILL. There, you see! That shows! It's going to be half-interesting for you, but not for—us.
HILLCRIST. Look here, Jill—is there anything between you and young what's-his-name—Rolf?
JILL. [Biting her lip] No. But—now it's all spoiled.
HILLCRIST. You can't expect me to regret that.
JILL. I don't mean any tosh about love's young dream; but I do like being friends. I want to enjoy things, Dodo, and you can't do that when everybody's on the hate. You're going to wallow in it, and so shall I—oh! I know I shall!—we shall all wallow, and think of nothing but "one for his nob."
HILLCRIST. Aren't you fond of your home?
JILL. Of course. I love it.