Haven’t you any generosity?
Taylor.
Not the kind you want, I guess.
Norah.
Oh, I’m so unhappy.
Taylor.
Listen. [He puts up his finger and seems to listen intently. She looks at him, but does not speak.] Listen to the silence. Can’t you hear it, the silence of the prairie? Why, we might be the only two people in the world, you and me, here in this shack right out in the prairie. Listen. There ain’t a sound. It might be the garden of Eden. What’s that about male and female created He them? I guess you’re my wife, my girl, and I want you. [She gives him a sidelong look of terror, but still does not speak. He takes the lamp and goes to the bedroom door. He opens it and, holding the lamp up high, looks at her. Just to do something she takes the dishcloth and rubs the table with it. She wants to gain time.] I guess it’s getting late. You’ll be able to have a good clean out to-morrow.
Norah.
To-morrow.
[A look of shame, fear, anguish, passes over her face, and then, violently, a convulsive shudder runs through her whole body. She puts her hands to her eyes and walks slowly to the door.]