She looks at her husband and for a moment her glance is sharp and angry and something that she wouldn't be proud to admit to feeling.

She knows her Bible, and she knows her place, but she also knows that rich or not, you take in folk when they come, and that Jack'd said they'd come and help, and sometimes she hates John Twist, as unChristian as that may be.

All she says is, "S'pose I did," soft as can be, and the sharp look is gone, her face blank, as she takes another sip of her water and looks straight ahead.