Mrs. G. (opening door). And I'll tell the women. They're going to know the kind of son I've borne. I'm a proud woman this night, and all Belinda Street is going to know I've cause to be. (Sniffing.) O'Callagan indeed!
[Exit Mrs. Garside.
Peter. And now, Margaret? (He stands centre behind table.)
Mar. (looking up and holding out her hand across table; she takes his, bending). Oh, my dear, my dear.
Peter. Are you pleased with me?
Mar. Pleased!
Peter (rising). Yes. We've done it.
Mar. You, not we. My hero.
Peter. We, Margaret, we. I'm no hero. I owe it all to you.
Mar. (rising). You owe it to yourself.