Mr. C. (angrily). Haven’t you got sense enough to know that I don’t mean what I say?
M. I supposed, of course, you meant what you said, though I didn’t exactly like to repeat your message to him.
Mr. C. (after a pause). I guess I’ll try a little of the tea, Maria. (She brings it.)
Mr. C. (languidly). You’ll have to feed me, Maria, I’m so weak.
M. Yes, uncle. (Places napkin under chin, and proceeds to feed him.)
Mr. C. Stop—stop—it’s hot. You’re choking me. (But Maria keeps on.)
Mr. C. (moving quickly one side).—Sto-op. Can’t you understand plain English? I don’t believe there’s a particle of skin left on my tongue. What do you mean?
M. You told me I ought to know by this time that you didn’t mean what you said. So I supposed I was to go on, at any rate.
Mr. C. It’s horrible tasting stuff. You’ve been putting pepper into it. While you were about it, why didn’t you put in vinegar, too?
(Maria, without a word, goes to the table, takes up the vinegar-cruet, and pours vinegar into the cup.)