Mrs. R. They don’t have to drill holes in rocks.
Rog. Well, I’ll drill a hole in the next feller ’at laughs at you, Mollie. An’ I’ll make it big enough fur him to put in a skylight. Cuss ’em, what do I care for Floridy, an’ dudes from down East, an’ gals dressed to kill. None of ’em as purty as you!
Mrs. R. Jim Rogers!
Rog. An’ if some o’ them dudes aint a holy show, I’ll eat a live alligater.
Vance. I think you are oversensitive, Mrs. Rogers. You’ll get used to this after a while and like it better.
Mrs. R. Harvey Vance, why don’t you like it then? It’s your own kind.
Vance. (Uneasy.) Well—in fact I never was much for show and style, and—in fact it occurred to me to see Europe while I have a chance. (Going.)
Rog. Goin’ to pack up?
Vance. Yes. I want to catch the next Savannah boat. (Exit.)