MRS. H. I don't know what you mean by humbug?
JILL. He means humbug; mother.
HILLCRIST. It must stop at old Hornblower. Do you quite understand?
MRS. H. Quite.
JILL. Will it stop?
MRS. H. Jill, if you can't keep your impertinence to yourself——
HILLCRIST. Jill, come with me.
[He turns towards door, Back.]
JILL. I'm sorry, mother. Only it is a skin game, isn't it?
MRS. H. You pride yourself on plain speech, Jill. I pride myself on plain thought. You will thank me afterwards that I can see realities. I know we are better people than these Hornblowers. Here we are going to stay, and they—are not.