Madden. If you kept your check book up to date you'd know.
Mrs. Madden. W'at right they got not t' cash my check?
Madden [still controlling himself]. The bank don't let you overdraw any more. [He glances back at the bills.] D'you know, I'm wonderin' why you didn't charge those boots.
Mrs. Madden. I ain't got any account at th' Excelsior.
Madden. I guess it's the only place in town you haven't got one.—You don't seem to remember what salary I get.
Mrs. Madden. Sure—I know. Ninety-five a month. Y' know mighty well I'm ashamed o' you f'r not gettin' more. Mrs. Montanio's husban'—
Madden [breaking in]. Hang the Montanios! [More quietly.] Don't you see what I'm gettin' at? Here it is the twelfth o' December; you know my pay don't come in till the end o' the month; an' here you go an' draw all our money out o' the bank ... an' more. [Turning toward the table.] An' look at these bills!
Mrs. Madden. James Madden, I like t' know w'at right you got t' talk t' me like that.
Madden [thoughtfully]. I've always argued it's the woman's job to run the house. [He walks around the table from front to rear, passing to its left, and looking down at the bills. With conviction.] It's no use!—I don't just see how we're goin' to get out of this mess; but I do know one thing. [Advancing toward her from the rear of the table.] After this I'm goin' to spend our money, even if I have to buy your dresses.
Mrs. Madden [with rising anger]. If you say I've been extrav'gant, James Madden, yer a plain liar!