Helena—Do they?
Storm—[Without attempting to hide his admiration.] I’ve watched your back: “There goes a fine woman, a fine silent woman; she wears long skirts, but she knows how to move her feet without kicking up a dust—a woman who can do that, drives a man mad.” In town there’s a story that you come through once every Spring, driving a different man ahead of you with a riding whip; another has it, that you come in the night——
Helena—In other words, the starved women of the town are beginning to eat.
Storm—[Pause.] Well [laughs] I like you.
Helena—I do not enjoy the spectacle of men ascending.
Storm—What are you trying to say?
Helena—I’m saying it.
Storm—[After an awkward pause.] Do—you wish me to—go away?
Helena—You will go.
Storm—Why won’t you let me talk to you?