] Vulgar!
MILDRED--She was too distant a relative to be vulgar. Time mellows
pipes.
AUNT--[Pretending boredom but irritated.] Did the sociology you
took up at college teach you that--to play the ghoul on every
possible occasion, excavating old bones? Why not let your great-
grandmother rest in her grave?
MILDRED--[Dreamily.] With her pipe beside her--puffing in
Paradise.
AUNT--[With spite.] Yes, you are a natural born ghoul. You are
even getting to look like one, my dear.
MILDRED--[In a passionless tone.] I detest you, Aunt. [Looking at
her critically.] Do you know what you remind me of? Of a cold pork
pudding against a background of linoleum tablecloth in the kitchen
of a--but the possibilities are wearisome. [She closes her eyes.]
AUNT--[With a bitter laugh.] Merci for your candor. But since I am
and must be your chaperone--in appearance, at least--let us patch
up some sort of armed truce. For my part you are quite free to
indulge any pose of eccentricity that beguiles you--as long as you
observe the amenities--
MILDRED--[Drawling.] The inanities?
AUNT--[Going on as if she hadn't heard.] After exhausting the
morbid thrills of social service work on New York's East Side--how
they must have hated you, by the way, the poor that you made so
much poorer in their own eyes!--you are now bent on making your
slumming international.
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