ann. [After a moment.] Be kind to me.
abud. [With remorse.] Always I will.
ann. You are master here.
abud. And I've angered you?
ann. And if I fail . . I'll never tell you . . to make a fool of you. And you're trembling. [She sees his hand, which is on the table, shake.]
abud. Look at that now.
ann. [Lifting her own.] My white hands must redden. No more dainty appetite . . no more pretty books.
abud. Have you learned to scrub?
ann. Not this floor.
abud. Mother always did bricks with a mop. Tomorrow I go to work. You'll be left for all day.