(MINNIE halts, and is silent. DR. JONATHAN lays a detaining hand on
her arm, and looks from one to the other, comprehendingly.)
GEORGE. I've asked her to marry me, Dr. Jonathan.
DR. JONATHAN. And what are your objections, Minnie?
MINNIE. You know why I can't, Dr. Jonathan. What kind of a wife would I make for him, with his family and friends. I'd do anything for him but that! He wouldn't be happy.
DR. JONATHAN. And what's your answer, George?
GEORGE. I don't want her for my family and friends,—I want her for myself. This isn't a snap judgment—I've had time to think it over.
MINNIE. I didn't mean to be here when you got home. I know I'm not fit to be your wife I haven't had any education.
GEORGE. Neither have I. We start level there. I've lived among people of culture, and I've found out that culture chiefly consists of fixed ideas, and obstruction to progress, of hating the President,—of knowing the right people and eating fish with a fork.
MINNIE (smiling, though in tears). Well, I never ate fish with a knife, anyway.
GEORGE. I spent my valuable youth learning Greek and Latin, and I can't speak or read either of them. I know that Horace wrote odes, and Cicero made orations, but I can't quote them. All I remember about biology is that the fittest are supposed to survive, and in this war I've seen the fittest killed off like flies. You've had several years of useful work in the Pindar Shops and the Wire Works, to say nothing of a course in biological chemistry, psychology and sociology under Dr. Jonathan. I'll leave it to him whether you don't know more about life than I do—about the life and problems of the great mass of people in this country. And now that the strike's over—