"I've been thinking a lot about this, and I know now—there is only one thing between us, and that's Ansdore."
"How d'you mean? It ain't between us."
"It is—again and again you seem to be putting Ansdore in the place of our love. What other woman on God's earth would put off her marriage to fit in with the sheep-shearing?"
"I ain't putting it off. We haven't fixed the day yet, and I'm just telling you to fix a day that's suitable and convenient."
"You know I always meant to marry you the first week in June."
"And you know as I've told you, that I can't take the time off then."
"The time off! You're not a servant. You can leave Ansdore any day you choose."
"Not when the shearing's on. You don't understand, Martin—I can't have all the shearers up and nobody to look after 'em."
"What about your looker?—or Broadhurst? You don't trust anybody but yourself."
"You're just about right—I don't."