rayer?

UNCLE TITUS. Or sing a hymn?

ANDERSON (rather hastily). I have been with our sister this morning
already, friends. In our hearts we ask a blessing.

ALL (except Essie). Amen.

They all sit down, except Judith, who stands behind Mrs. Dudgeon's
chair.

JUDITH (to Essie). Essie: did you say Amen?

ESSIE (scaredly). No.

JUDITH. Then say it, like a good girl.

ESSIE. Amen.

UNCLE WILLIAM (encouragingly). That's right: that's right. We know who
you are; but we are willing to be kind to you if you are a good girl
and deserve it. We are all equal before the Throne.

This republican sentiment does not please the women, who are convinced
that the Throne is precisely the place where their superiority, often
questioned in this world, will be recognized and rewarded.

CHRISTY (at the window). Here's Dick.

Anderson and Hawkins look round sociably. Essie, with a gleam of
interest breaking through her misery, looks up. Christy grins and gapes
expectantly at the door. The rest are petrified with the intensity of
their sense of Virtue menaced with outrage by the approach of flaunting
Vice. The reprobate appears in the doorway, graced beyond his alleged
merits by the morning sunlight. He is certainly the best looking member
of the family; but his expression is reckless and sardonic, his manner
defiant and satirical, his dress picturesquely careless. Only his
forehead and mouth betray an extraordinary steadfastness, and his eyes
are the eyes of a fanatic.

RICHARD (on the threshold, taking off his hat). Ladies and gentlemen:
your servant, your very humble servant. (With this comprehensive
insult, he throws his hat to Christy with a suddenness that makes him
jump like a negligent wicket keeper, and comes into the middle of the
room, where he turns and deliberately surveys the company.) How happy
you all look! how glad to see me! (He turns towards Mrs. Dudgeon's
chair; and his lip rolls up horribly from his dog tooth as he meets her
look of undisguised hatred.) Well, mother: keeping up appearances as
usual? that's right, that's right. (Judith pointedly moves away from
his neighborhood to the other side of the kitchen, holding her skirt
instinctively as if to save it from contamination. Uncle Titus promptly
marks his approval of her action by rising from the sofa, and placing a
chair for her to sit down upon.) What! Uncle William! I haven't seen
you since you gave up drinking. (Poor Uncle William, shamed, would
pr