If he comes before I get back, tell him I won’t be long. I guess you won’t be sorry to do a bit of yarning with him by yourself.
Norah.
You’re not under the impression I’m going to say beastly things about you to him?
Taylor.
No, I guess not. That ain’t your sort. P’raps we don’t know the best of one another yet, but I reckon we know the worst by now.
Norah.
[Looking at him sharply.] Frank, is anything the matter?
Taylor.
Why, no. Why?
Norah.