MAGGIE. No. Have you ever thought that I’m really marrying you to get out of the shop?
FOSTER. Of course not. Of course you are glad to leave the shop because you don’t like it. You are so tied.
MAGGIE. I should love to be absolutely independent, quite—altogether free for a whole year. Oh!
FOSTER. [a little hurt.] You will be free when you are married to me, Maggie. You can do anything you like.
MAGGIE. [looking at him despairingly for a moment, then suddenly going up to him.] You are a dear!—you are, really! Marry me quick, Walter!
He takes her in his arms delightedly.
Quick—or—or—
FOSTER. Or what? [Very tenderly.]
MAGGIE. Or I shall run away.