Peter. Cured me?
Mar. I thought I'd given you a higher aim.
Peter. And that was why you urged this study on me?
Mar. Yes.
Peter. Margaret! Why? (Backing from, her, and sitting centre during her speech.)
Mar. I've seen men ruined by this itch to speak. You know them. Men we had great hopes of in the movement. Men we thought would be real leaders of the people. And they spoke, and spoke, and soon said all they had to say, became mere windbags trading on a reputation till people tired and turned to some new orator. Don't be one of these, Peter. You've solider grit than they. The itch to speak is like the itch to drink, except that it's cheaper to talk yourself tipsy.
Peter. You ask a great thing of me, Margaret.
Mar. (sitting right) What shall I see of you if you're out speaking every night? You pitied me just now because you had to close your door against me while you studied. I could bear that for the time. But this other thing, married and widowed at once, with you out at your work all day and away night after night——
Peter. But I shan't always be working in the daytime.
Mar. (alarmed). Not work! Peter—they haven't dismissed you?