She had never been married.
"You don't know ?" said Harry, helping Maria to a chop and a roll, while Hannah poured the coffee.
"No," said Hannah again, and this time her face was fairly malicious.
"I don't know how long I can stand such doin's, and that's the truth," she said.
Hannah had come originally from New England, and had principles, in which she took pride, perhaps the more because they had never in one sense been assailed.

Annie was a Hungarian, and considered by Hannah to have no principles.

She was also pretty, in a rough, half-finished sort of fashion, and had no cast in her eyes.

Hannah privately considered that as against her.
Harry began sipping his coffee, which Hannah had set down with such impetus that she spilled a good deal in the saucer, and he looked uneasily at her.
"What do you mean, Hannah ?" he asked.
"I mean that I am not used to being throwed in with girls who stays out all night, and nobody knows where they be, and that's the truth," said Hannah, with emphasis.
"Do you mean to say that Annie--" "Yes, I do.

She wa'n't in, and they do say she's married, and--" "Hush, Hannah, we'll talk about this another time," Harry said, with a glance at Maria.
Just then a step was heard in the kitchen.
"There she is now, the trollop," said Hannah, but she whispered the last word under her breath, and she also gave a glance at Maria, as one might at any innocent ignorance which must be shielded even from knowledge itself.
Annie came in directly.