Pay S. No!
Grouse. Fact! But she’s had a lesson. She’s run to the end of the tether an’ she knows which ’un she’ll take.
Pay S. Then it’s my pard, sure.
Grouse. Taint nether.
Pay S. Why, tother one is old enough to be her pap.
Grouse. Don’t care if he is. Them city gals don’t care fur age. They jist look at the rocks.
Pay S. Well, pardner’ll have plenty of stuff when we git the Lucy goin’ two shifts a day. Say, Grouse, why didn’t ye mention that to her an’ say a good word fur pardner?
Grouse. Mention that! To her! Land o’ twilight! It’s a heap you know about women.
Pay S. (Puts arm round her waist.) I know they are sweeter than all creation.
Grouse. (Withdrawing.) Oh, you do, do you?