think it’s fun sweltering in that oven of a kitchen to keep things warm for you, you’re mistaken.
Robert—I’m sorry, Ruth, really I am.
Ruth—That’s what you always say; but you keep coming late just the same.
Robert—I know; and I can’t seem to help it. Something crops up every day to delay me. I mean to be here on time.
Ruth—[With a sigh.] Mean-tos don’t count.
Robert—[With a conciliating smile.] Then punish me, Ruth. Let the food get cold and don’t bother about me. Just set it to one side. I won’t mind.
Ruth—I’d have to wait just the same to wash up after you.
Robert—But I can wash up
Ruth—A nice mess there’d be then!
Robert—[With an attempt at lightness.] The food is lucky to be able to get cold this weather. [As Ruth doesn’t answer or smile he opens his book and resumes his reading, forcing himself to take a mouthful of food every now and then. Ruth stares at him in annoyance.]
Ruth—And besides, you’ve got your own work that’s got to be done.
Robert—[Absent-mindedly, without taking his eyes from the book.] Yes, of course.
Ruth—[Spitefully.] Work you’ll never get done by reading books all the time.
Robert—[Shutting the book with a snap.] Why do you persist in nagging at me for getting pleasure
