Read this passage carefully, and then answer the question that follows it: Walter [to RUTH]: Well, they look crazy as hell-white shoes, cold as it is. Ruth [crushed]: You have to excuse him- Walter: No, he don't! Excuse me for what? What you always excusing me for! I'll excuse myself when I needs to be excused! [Pause.] They look as funny as them black knee socks Beneatha wears out of here all the time. Ruth: It's the college style, Walter. Walter: Style, hell. She looks like she got burnt legs or something! Ruth: Oh, Walter- Walter [an irritable mimic]: Oh, Walter! Oh, Walter! [to GEORGE]: How's your old man making out? I understand you all going to buy that big hotel on the Drive? [He finds a beer in the refrigerator, wanders over to GEORGE, sipping and wiping his lips with the back of his hand and straddling a chair backwards to talk to the other man.] Shrewd move. Your old man is all right, man. [Tapping his head and half winking for emphasis.] I mean he knows how to operate. I mean he thinks big, you know what I mean, I mean for a home, you know? But I think he's kind of running out of ideas now. I'd like to talk to him. Listen, man, I got some plans that could turn this city upside down. I mean I think like he does. Big. Invest big, gamble big, hell, lose big if you have to, you know what I mean. It's hard to find a man on this whole Southside who understands my kind of thinking-you dig? [He scrutinises GEORGE again, drinks his beer, squints his eyes and leans in close, confidential, man to man.] Me and you ought to sit down and talk sometimes, man. Man, I got me some ideas... George [with boredom]: Yeah-sometimes we'll have to do that, Walter. Walter [understanding the indifference, and offended]: Yeah-well, when you get the time, man. I know you a busy little boy. Ruth: Walter, please- Walter [bitterly, hurt]: I know ain't nothing in this world as busy as you coloured college boys with your fraternity pins and white shoes... Ruth [covering her face with humiliation]: Oh, Walter Lee- Walter: I see you all all the time-with the books tucked under your arms-going to your-[He mimics the British 'a'.] 'clahsses'. And for what? The hell you learning over there? Filling up your heads-[counting off on his fingers.] -with the sociology and the psychology. But they teaching you how to be a man? How to take over and run the world? They teaching you how to run a rubber plantation or a steel mill? Naw-just to talk proper and read books and wear them faggoty-looking white shoes... George [looking at him with distaste, a little above it all]: You're all whacked up with bitterness, man. Walter [intently, almost quietly, between the teeth, glaring at the boy]: And you- ain't you bitter, man? Ain't you just about had it yet? Don't you see no stars gleaming that you can't reach out and grab? You happy?-you contented son-of-a-bitch-you happy? You got it made? Bitter? Man, I'm a volcano. Bitter? Here I am a giant-surrounded by ants! Ants who can't even understand what it is the giant is talking about. Ruth [passionately and suddenly]: Oh, Walter-ain't you with nobody? Walter [violently]: No! 'Cause ain't nobody with me! Not even my own mother! Ruth: Walter, that's a terrible thing to say! [from Act 2 Scene 1] What does Hansberry's writing make you feel about Walter at this moment in the play?