[Now comes the sound of a key being put into the lock. It is turned noisily and the door is opened wide. A rig stands outside and Sharp is seen still seated holding the reins. Norah has just got down. Tied on the back of the rig are Norah’s trunk and Taylor’s grip. There is a glimpse of the prairie and the bright Canadian night. Taylor comes in. He is wearing a waterproof coat lined with sheepskin, a dark, roughly cut suit of some coarse blue material, and a broad-brimmed, flat-crowned hat.]
Taylor.
Wait a minute, and I’ll light the lamp. [He strikes a match and looks round.] Where in hell has it got to? The shack’s about two foot by three, and I’m blamed if I can ever find a darned thing.
Sharp.
I’ll give you a hand with that trunk.
[As he speaks he begins to get down. Taylor finds the lamp and lights it.]
Taylor.
I’ll come and help you if you’ll wait a bit. Come in, Norah.
Sharp.
Woa there!