Cyn. Land, Mr. Gordon, that ain’t no way to talk.
Lee. Isn’t it? Well, if these muffins aren’t heavenly, I never struck anything that was. The only thing that worries me is a fear that you will regret your kindness in taking in a derelict, and want to withdraw from your part of the bargain. Do you? I hate like time to give you the opportunity, but I know I took advantage of the storm to get a shelter last night. Do you want me to release you?
Cyn. I ain’t said anything about it, have I?
Lee. No, but you certainly are taking a chance. You haven’t even asked me for references.
Cyn. No, I’m taking you on faith, and if I’m satisfied to do it I shouldn’t think you need to worry.
Lee (reaching across the table and shaking hands with her). Miss Tinker, you’re a brick! I feel just as if I had come to visit my aunt, or something. I hope you will never regret your kindness. (As Cyn. passes him the plate of muffins.) No, don’t. Have mercy. If I eat another mouthful I shall have to be helped from the table. (Rises.) That’s the best breakfast I ever ate, and believe me, the landlady is way ahead of the breakfast.
Cyn. Land sakes, that’s no way to talk to a woman my age. What do you think of the view from here?
Lee (going to door). Perfectly corking. It cleared off great, didn’t it?
Cyn. Think this will be a good place for your work?
Lee. Yes, if you happen to have a window on the back looking out onto a nice quiet little hen-house.