Marsh.
She says she won’t speak to you again until you beg her pardon.
Norah.
Does she look upon that as a great hardship?
Marsh.
My dear, we’re twelve miles from the nearest store. We’re thrown upon one another through the whole of the winter. Last year there was a bad blizzard, and for six weeks we didn’t see a soul outside the farm. Unless we learn to put up with one another’s whims life becomes a perfect hell.
Norah.
You can go on talking all night, Eddie—I’ll never apologise. Time after time when she sneered at me till my blood boiled. I’ve kept my temper. She deserved ten times more than I said. D’you think I’m going to knuckle under to a woman like that?
Marsh.
Remember she’s my wife, Norah.