[He repeats ironically.] “Hope you are all well!”
Ruth—[Dully.] He couldn’t know you’d been took sick till I answered that and told him.
Robert—[Contritely.] Of course he couldn’t. You’re right. I’m a fool. I’m touchy about nothing lately. Just what did you say in your reply? I forget.
Ruth—[Inconsequentially.] I had to send it collect. [Robert frowns.] I wrote you were pretty low and for him to hurry up here.
Robert—[Irritably.] He’ll think I’m dying or some such foolishness. What an idiotic exaggeration! What did you say was the matter with me? Did you mention that?
Ruth—I wrote you had lung trouble—just those two words. [Dully.] The boy said it wouldn’t cost any more for two words.
Robert—[Flying into a petty temper.] You are a fool! How often have I explained to you that it’s pleurisy is the matter with me. You can’t seem to get it in your head that the pleura is outside the lungs, not in them!
Ruth—[Callously.] I only wrote what Doctor Smith told me.
Robert—[Angrily.] He’s a damned ignoramus!
Ruth—[Dully.] Makes no difference. I had to tell Andy something, didn’t I?
Robert—[After a pause, opening the other telegram.] He sent this last evening. Let’s see. [He reads.] “Leave for home on midnight train. Just
