Tries in vain to recall it.
Blamed if I can remember. Only seen him once. But I tell you, he's smart as tacks. Chuck full of Jamaica ginger. The very kind I'd have swore you'd take to, a while back, before you lost your fun and your spirit. When I first saw you on your father's farm out in Kansas, you was as wild a little gypsy as I ever set eyes on. I said then to your dad, "There's a filly that'll need a good breakin'." I never thought I'd see you takin' up with these Gospel pedlers.
Martha comes in from the hall and fusses about, dusting, etc. She points in the direction of Mrs. Beeler's room.
Martha.
They're prayer-meetin' it again. And Mary lyin' there as if she saw the pearly gates openin' before her eyes.
Beeler.
Half to himself as he works.
Poor Mary!—Mary's a strange woman.
Martha.
To Rhoda.