WILL. [Rises and comes to her.] Do you think I'm going to let a woman make a liar out of me? I'm going to stay right here. I like that boy, and I'm not going to let you put him to the bad.
LAURA. I want you to go. [Slams trunk lid down, crosses to dresser, opens drawer to get stuff out.
WILL. And I tell you I won't go. I'm going to show you up. I'm going to tell him the truth. It isn't you I care for—he's got to know.
LAURA. [Slams drawer shut, loses her temper, and is almost tiger-like in her anger.] You don't care for me?
WILL. No.
LAURA. It isn't me you're thinking of?
WILL. No.
LAURA. Who's the liar now?
WILL. Liar?
LAURA. Yes, liar. You are. You don't care for this man, and you know it.