Taylor.
Gee, I didn’t hit you. You smacked my face and kicked my shins, and you bit my hand. And then you say I hit you.
Norah.
[With all her passion.] You beast! I hate you.
Taylor.
I don’t care about that so long as you wash them cups.
Norah.
Look.
[With a sudden sweep of the arm she brushes them off the table, and they fall on the floor and break.]
Taylor.