ANNA—[Rising to her feet—brusquely.] Oh, cut it out! [Scornfully.] Little home in the country! I wish you could have seen the little home in the country where you had me in jail till I was sixteen! [With rising irritation.] Some day you're going to get me so mad with that talk, I'm going to turn loose on you and tell you—a lot of things that'll open your eyes.
CHRIS—[Alarmed.] Ay don't vant—
ANNA—I know you don't; but you keep on talking yust the same.
CHRIS—Ay don't talk no more den, Anna.
ANNA—Then promise me you'll cut out saying nasty things about Mat Burke every chance you get.
CHRIS—[Evasive and suspicious.] Vhy? You like dat fallar—very much, Anna?
ANNA—Yes, I certainly do! He's a regular man, no matter what faults he's got. One of his fingers is worth all the hundreds of men I met out there—inland.
CHRIS—[His face darkening.] Maybe you tank you love him, den?
ANNA—[Defiantly.] What of it if I do?
CHRIS—[Scowling and forcing out the words.] Maybe—you tank you—marry him?