Taylor.
If I saved the crop there didn’t seem any use fussing, and if I didn’t you’d know quite soon enough.
Norah.
How could you bear to let me put the flowers here?
Taylor.
I guess I didn’t mind if it made you happy. You didn’t know they was only a weed. You thought them darned pretty.
Norah.
[With a little smile.] It was very kind of you, Frank.
Taylor.
I guess it’s queer that a darned little flower like that should be able to do so much damage.