FREDDY. That's right enough, but there's this plan of hers to get us married. Are you prepared to work it for us?
ALBERT. I'm not. Anything but—
FREDDY. Then till she's done it we're to keep the sweet side of Maggie.
ALBERT. But, washing pots! (Moves down L.)
(There is a pause. They look at WILL, who has brought the tray from behind the screen and is now clearing up the table.)
FREDDY. What would you do in our place, Will?
WILLIE. Please yourselves. I'm getting on with what she told me.
FREDDY. You're married to her. We aren't.
ALBERT. What do you need the table for in such a hurry?
WILLIE; Nay, I'm not in any hurry myself.