You don't know anything about anything; none of you know nothing!

Martha:

Now, what would you like to wear? Black, black, or black? Mary:
Are you blind? They're all black. And I *won't* be laughed at, servant. Martha:
My name's Martha. [she begins to start slipping a black dress on Mary, but she backs away] Martha:
I won't tickle you. I promise. [pause as Martha dresses Mary] Martha:
What do they wear in India? When I heard you was coming from there, I thought you'd be a native. Mary:
[furious]
A what? You thought I was A what? [repeatedly shoves Martha] Mary:
You - you - you daughter of a pig! [starts throwing a tantrum by grunting and hitting her hands flat against the walls] Martha:
You needn't be like that. I've nothing against natives. As mother says, all of us are family. I've never seen a native. I was pleased to think I was. Mary:
You don't know anything about anything; none of you know nothing!