Out on the lake.
Betty
They’s no boat.
Lloyd
Futher down—they’s a cabin, I know, and a boat—mebbe. Come on—le’s go to it. (They start. Lloyd stops, shaking off his fear.) Aw, listen. Whut’s the matter with us? Runnin’ like rabbits. They ain’t nuthin’ to be skeered of. We’re jist cold, that’s all. That’s it. Drivin’ so long ’fore it got light has jist got us chilled to the bone.
Betty
I ain’t cold.
Lloyd
Y’air. Cold as ice. Ye’re tremblin’.
Betty