ROBERT. (_taking of her shoes and stockings_) We’ll show Mama we know how to do those things, won’t we? There’s one old shoe off--and there’s the other old shoe--and here’s one old stocking--and there’s the other old stocking. There we are, all nice and cool and comfy. (_He bends down and kisses her_) And now will you promise to go right to sleep if Dada takes you to bed? (MARY _nods sleepily_) That’s the good little girl. (_He gathers her up in his arms carefully and carries her into the bedroom. His voice can be heard faintly as he lulls the child to sleep._ RUTH _comes out of the kitchen and gets the plate from the table. She hears the voice from the room and tiptoes to the door to look in. Then she starts for the kitchen but stands for a moment thinking, a look of ill-concealed jealousy on her face. At a noise from inside she hurriedly disappears into the kitchen. A moment later_ ROBERT _re-enters. He comes forward and picks up the shoes and stockings which he shoves carelessly under the table. Then, seeing no one about, he goes to the sideboard and selects a book. Coming back to his chair, he sits down and immediately becomes absorbed in reading._ RUTH _returns from the kitchen bringing his plate heaped with food, and a cup of tea. She sets those before him and sits down in her former place._ ROBERT _continues to read, oblivious to the food on the table_). RUTH. (_after watching him irritably for a moment_) For heaven’s sakes, put down that old book! Don’t you see your dinner’s getting cold? ROBERT. (_closing his book_) Excuse me, Ruth. I didn’t notice. (_He picks up his knife and fork and begins to eat gingerly, without appetite_). RUTH. I should think you might have some feeling for me, Rob, and not always be late for meals. If you 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. 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. 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 out of reading? Is it because---- (_He checks himself abruptly_).