  Scene: The living-room and kitchen on Edward Marsh’s farm at Dyer, Manitoba. It is a room lined with brown planks, and on the walls in cheap gilt frames are coloured supplements from the Christmas numbers of illustrated papers. Over one door is the head of a moose, and over the other a large kitchen clock. The floor is covered with shiny oil-cloth. In the window are geraniums growing in maple-syrup tins. On one side is a large American stove. There is a dresser of unvarnished deal on which are plates and cups and saucers. They are of the plainest earthenware, and few of them match. There are two American rockers and a number of kitchen chairs. There is a plain kitchen table. On the stove is an enormous kettle and a couple of saucepans. There is a small bookshelf on which are a few tattered novels and some old magazines. The table is set for dinner with a cheap white cloth, none too clean. Ed Marsh is sitting at one end, with the remains of a joint of cold beef in front of him, and at the other end is his wife, with a teapot, milk-jug, and sugar-basin. There is a loaf of bread on the table, a large tin containing maple-syrup, and the remains of a milk pudding. Norah is sitting next to her sister-in-law and beside her is Reginald Hornby. Opposite are Frank Taylor and Benjamin Trotter. Dinner is just finished. Gertie Marsh is a dark little person, with a hard look and a dried-up skin. She is thin and nervous, an active, hard-working woman with a sharp Marsh. Have some more syrup, Reg? Hornby. No, thank you. Marsh. Has everyone finished? Gertie. It looks like it. [Marsh pushes back his chair, takes a pouch and pipe from his pocket and lights up. Taylor does the same.] Gertie. We’ll be able to start on the ironing this afternoon. Norah. Very well. Trotter. It was a rare big wash you done this morning by the look of it on the line. Norah. My arms are just aching. Gertie. When you’ve been out in this country a bit longer you’ll learn not to wear more things than you can help. Norah. Was there more than my fair share? Gertie. You use double the number of stockings than what I do. And everything else is the same. Norah. [With a smile.] Clean but incompetent. Gertie. There’s many a true word spoken in jest. Taylor. Say, Reg, is it true that when you first come out you asked Ed where the bath-room was? Trotter. [With a chuckle.] That’s right. Ed told ’im there was a river a mile and a ’alf from ’ere, an’ that was the only bath-room ’e knew. Marsh. One soon gets used to that sort of thing, eh, Reg? Hornby. Rather. If I saw a bath-room now it would only make me nervous. Taylor. Out in B.C. I knew a couple of Englishmen who were baching and the only other people around were Indians. The first two years they was there they wouldn’t have anything to do with the Indians because they was so dirty, and after that the Indians wouldn’t have anything to do with them. [He puts his fingers to his nose to indicate a nasty smell.] Norah. What a disgusting story! Taylor. D’you think so? I rather like it. Norah. You would. [He looks at her with a little smile, but does not answer.] Gertie. [Getting up.] Are you going to sit there all day, Norah? Marsh. Why don’t you keep quiet for five minutes? I guess Norah’s not sorry to have a rest after that wash. Gertie. The amount of work Norah did isn’t going to tire her much, I reckon. Norah. I’m not used to that sort of work yet. It takes it out of me a bit. Gertie. I’ve not found out what sort of work you are used to. [Norah gets up and the two women start clearing away the table. Marsh moves into one of the rocking-chairs and smokes.] Marsh. Give her time to get used to the life, Gertie. You can’t expect everything all at once. Gertie. It’s always the same with English people. You have to teach them everything. Marsh. Well, you didn’t have to teach me to propose, Gertie. [Norah takes away things from before Taylor and he gets up.] Taylor. I guess I’m in your way. Norah. Not more than usual, thank you. Taylor. [Smiling.] I guess you’ll not be sorry to see the last of me. Norah. I can’t honestly say that it makes the least difference to me whether you go or stay. Marsh. Now don’t start quarrelling, you two. Hornby. When does your train go, Frank? Taylor. Half-past three. I’ll be starting from here in about an hour. Marsh. Reg can go over with you and he’ll drive the rig back again. Taylor. All right. I’ll go and dress myself in a bit. Gertie. I guess you’ll be glad to get back to your own place. Taylor. I guess I shan’t be sorry. [The clearing away is finished. Gertie gets a large metal basin and puts it on the table. Norah fetches the kettle and pours hot water into the basin. They begin washing up.] Gertie. I’ll do the washing, Norah, and you can dry. Norah. All right. Gertie. I’ve noticed the things aren’t half clean when I leave them to you to do. Norah. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me? Gertie. I suppose you never did the washing up in England. Too grand? Norah. I don’t suppose anyone would wash up if they could help it. It’s not very amusing. Gertie. You always want to be amused. Norah. No. But I want to be happy. Gertie. Well, you’ve got a room over your head and a comfortable bed to sleep in, three good meals a day, and plenty to do; that’s all anybody wants to make them happy, I guess. Hornby. Oh, lord! Gertie. [Turning sharply on him.] Well, if you don’t like Canada, why did you come out? Hornby. [Rising slowly to his feet.] You don’t suppose I’d have let them send me if I’d known what I was in for? Not much. Up at five in the morning and working in the fields like a navvy till your back feels as if it ’ud break, and then back again in the afternoon. And the same thing day after day. What was the good of sending me to Harrow and Oxford if that’s what I’ve got to do all my life? Marsh. You’ll get used to it soon enough, Reg. It’s a bit hard at first, but when you get your foot in you wouldn’t change it for any other life. Gertie. This isn’t a country for a man to go to sleep with and wait for something to turn up. Trotter. I wouldn’t go back to England now, not for nothing. England! Eighteen bob a week, that’s what I earned, and no prospects. Out of work five months in the year. Norah. What did you do in England? Trotter. Bricklayer, Miss. Gertie. You needn’t call her miss. Norah’s her name. You call me Gertie, don’t you? Trotter. What with strikes an’ bad times you never knew where you was. And the foreman bullying you. I don’t know what all. I ’ad about enough of it, I can tell you. I’ve never been out of work since the day I landed. I’ve had as much to eat as I wanted and I’m saving money. In this country everybody’s as good as everybody else. Norah. If not better. Trotter. In two years I shall be able to set up for myself. Why, there’s old man Thompson, up at Pratt, he started as a bricklayer, come from Yorkshire, he did. He’s got seven thousand dollars in the bank now. Marsh. You fellows who come out now have a much softer thing on than I did when I first came. In those days they wouldn’t have an Englishman, they’d have a Galician rather. In Winnipeg, when they advertised in the paper for labour, you’d see often as not no English need apply. Gertie. Well, it was their own fault. They wouldn’t work or anything. They just soaked. Marsh. It was their own fault right enough. This was the dumping ground for all the idlers, drunkards, and scallywags in England. They had the delusion over there that if a man was too big a rotter to do anything at all in England he’d only got to be sent out here and he’d make a fortune. Taylor. I guess things ain’t as bad as that now. They send us a different class. It takes an Englishman two years longer than anybody else to get the hang of things, but when once he tumbles to it he’s better than any of them. Marsh. I guess nowadays everyone’s glad to see the Englishman make good. When I nearly smashed up three years ago, I had no end of offers to help. Hornby. How did you smash up? Marsh. Oh, I had a run of bad luck. One year my crop was frosted and then next year I was hailed out. It wants a good deal of capital to stand up against that. Taylor. That’s what happened to me. I was hailed out, and I hadn’t got capital, so I just had to hire out. [To Norah.] If it hadn’t been for that hailstorm you wouldn’t have had the pleasure of making my acquaintance. Norah. [Ironically.] How hollow and empty life would have been without that. Gertie. I wonder you didn’t just quit and start out Calgary way. Taylor. Well, I’d put in two years on my homestead and done a lot of clearing. It seemed kind of silly to lose my rights now. And when you’ve been hailed out once the chances are it won’t happen again, for some years that is, and by that time I ought to have put a bit by. Norah. What sort of a house have you got? Taylor. Well, it ain’t what you might call a palace, but it’s large enough for two. Marsh. Thinking of marrying? Taylor. Well, I guess it’s kind of lonesome on a farm without a woman. But it’s not so easy to find a wife when you’re just starting on your own. Canadian girls think twice before taking a farmer. Gertie. They know something, I guess. Marsh. Well, you took one, Gertie. Gertie. Not because I wanted to, you can be sure of that. I don’t know how you got round me. Marsh. I wonder. Gertie. I guess it was because you was kind of helpless, and I didn’t know what you’d do without me. Marsh. I guess it was love and you couldn’t help yourself. Taylor. I’m thinking of going to one of them employment agencies when I get to Winnipeg and looking the girls over. Norah. Like sheep. Taylor. I don’t know anythin’ about sheep. I’ve never had to do with sheep. Norah. And d’you think you know anything about women? Taylor. I guess I can tell if they’re strong and willing. And so long as they ain’t cock-eyed I don’t mind taking the rest on trust. Norah. And what inducement is there for a girl to have you? Trotter. That’s why he wants to catch ’em young, when they’ve just landed and don’t know much. Taylor. I’ve got my quarter section—a hundred and sixty acres, with seventy of it cleared—and I’ve got a shack that I built myself. That’s something, ain’t it? Norah. You’ve got a home to offer and enough to eat and drink. A girl can get that anywhere. Why, they’re simply begging for service. Taylor. Some girls like getting married. There’s something in the word that appeals to them. Norah. You seem to think a girl would jump at the chance of marrying you. Taylor. She might do worse. Norah. I think you flatter yourself. Taylor. I know my job and there ain’t too many as can say that. I’ve got brains. Norah. What makes you think so? Taylor. Well, I can see you’re no fool. Gertie. [With a chuckle.] He put one over on you then, Norah. Taylor. [Good-humouredly.] Because you’ve got no use for me, there’s no saying but what others may have. [Gertie takes the basin out in order to pour away the water. Norah goes on drying the crockery.] Norah. Of course, there’s no accounting for tastes. Taylor. I can try, can’t I? Norah. It’s very wise of you to go to an agency. A girl’s more likely to marry you when she’s only seen you once than when she’s seen you often. Taylor. [With a wink at the others.] It seems to make you quite mad, the thought of me marrying. Norah. You wouldn’t talk about it like that unless you looked down upon women. Oh, I pity the poor wretched creature who becomes your wife. Taylor. I guess she won’t have a bad time when I’ve broken her in to my ways. Norah. Are you under the impression you can do that? Taylor. Yep. Norah. You’re not expecting that there’ll be much love lost between you and the girl you—honour with your choice? Taylor. What’s love got to do with it? It’s a business proposition. Norah. What! Taylor. I give her board and lodging and the charm of my society. And in return she’s got to cook and bake and wash and keep the shack clean and tidy. And if she can do that I’ll not be particular what she looks like. Marsh. So long as she’s not cock-eyed. Taylor. No, I draw the line at that. Norah. [Ironically.] I beg your pardon. I didn’t know it was a general servant you wanted. You spend a dollar and a half on a marriage licence, and then you don’t have to pay any wages. It’s a good investment. Taylor. You’ve got a sharp tongue in your head for a girl, Norah. Norah. Please don’t call me Norah. Marsh. Don’t be so silly. It’s the custom of the country. Why, they all call me Ed. Norah. I don’t care what the custom of the country is. I’m not going to be called Norah by the hired man. Taylor. Don’t you bother, Ed. I’ll call her Miss Marsh if she likes it better. Norah. I should like to see you married to someone who’d give you what you deserved. I’d like to see your pride humbled. You think yourself very high and mighty, don’t you? I’d like to see a woman take you by the heart-strings and wring them till you screamed with pain. Marsh. [With a laugh.] Norah, how violent you are. Norah. You’re overbearing, supercilious, egotistic. Taylor. I’m not sure as I know what them long words means, but I guess they ain’t exactly complimentary. Norah. [Furiously.] I guess they ain’t. Taylor. I’m sorry for that. I was thinking of offering you the position before I went to the employment agency. Norah. How dare you speak to me like that! Marsh. Don’t fly into a temper, Norah. Norah. He’s got no right to say impudent things to me. Marsh. Don’t you see he’s only having a joke with you? Norah. He shouldn’t joke. He’s got no sense of humour. [Norah drops a cup and breaks it, and as this happens Gertie comes in.] Gertie. Butter fingers. Norah. I’m so sorry. Gertie. You clumsy thing. You’re always doing something wrong. Norah. You needn’t worry, I’ll pay for it. Gertie. Who wants you to pay for it? D’you think I can’t afford to pay for a cup? You might say you’re sorry—that’s all I want you to do. Norah. I said I was sorry. Gertie. No, you didn’t. Marsh. I heard her, Gertie. Gertie. She said she was sorry as if she was doing me a favour. Norah. You don’t expect me to go down on my knees to you? The cup’s worth twopence. Gertie. It isn’t the value I’m thinking about, it’s the carelessness. Norah. It’s only the third thing I’ve broken since I’ve been here. Gertie. You can’t do anything; you’re more helpless than a child of six. You’re all the same, all of you. Norah. You’re not going to abuse the whole British nation because I’ve broken a cup worth twopence, are you? Gertie. And the airs you put on. Condescending isn’t the word. It’s enough to try the patience of a saint. Marsh. Oh, shut up. Gertie. You’ve never done a stroke of work in your life, and you come here and think you can teach me everything. Norah. I don’t know about that, but I think I can teach you manners. Gertie. How dare you say that! How dare you! You come here and I give you a home, you sleep in my blankets and eat my food, and then you insult me. [She bursts into tears.] Marsh. Now then, Gertie, don’t cry. Don’t be so silly. Gertie. Oh, leave me alone. Of course you take her part. You would. It’s nothing to you that I’ve slaved for you for three years. As soon as she comes along and plays the lady.... [She hurries out of the room. Marsh hesitates for a moment and then follows his wife. There is a momentary pause.] Taylor. I reckon I might be cleaning myself. Time’s getting on. You’re coming, Ben? Trotter. Yes, I’m coming. I suppose you’ll take the mare? Taylor. Yep. That’s what Ed said this morning. [They go out. Norah is left alone with Reggie Hornby.] Hornby. [With a little smile.] Well, are you enjoying the land of promise as much as you said I should? Norah. We’ve both made our bed and we must lie in it. Hornby. D’you remember that afternoon at Miss Wickham’s when I came for a letter to your brother? Norah. I hadn’t much intention of coming to Canada then. Hornby. I don’t mind telling you that I mean to get back to England the very first opportunity I get. I’m willing to give away my share of the White Man’s Burden with a packet of chewing gum. Norah. [Smiling.] You prefer the Effete East? Hornby. Rather. Give me the degrading influence of a decadent civilisation every time. Norah. Your father will be pleased to see you, won’t he? Hornby. I don’t think. Of course, I was a damned fool ever to leave Winnipeg. Norah. I understand you didn’t till you were forced to. Hornby. Your brother behaved like a perfect brick. I sent him on your letter and told him I was up against it—d’you know I hadn’t got a bob? I was jolly glad to earn half a dollar by digging a pit in a man’s garden. Bit thick, you know. Norah. [Laughing.] I can see you. Hornby. Your brother sent me my fare to come here and told me I could do the chores. I didn’t know what they were. I found out it was doing all the jobs that it wasn’t anybody else’s job to do. And they call it God’s own country. [Meanwhile Norah has put a couple of irons on the stove and now she gets the board. It is rather heavy for her.] Norah. I think you’re falling into the ways very well. Hornby. What makes you think that? Norah. [With a smile.] You can sit by and smoke your pipe, and watch me carry the ironing board about. Hornby. [Without moving.] D’you want me to help you? Norah. No.... It would remind me of home. Hornby. I suppose I shall have to stick it out at least a year, unless I can humbug the mater into sending me enough money to get home with. Norah. She won’t send you a penny if she’s wise. Hornby. Wouldn’t you chuck it if you could? Norah. [With a flash of spirit.] And acknowledge myself beaten? [There is a short pause.] You don’t know what I went through before I came here. I tried to get another position as lady’s companion. I answered advertisements. I hung about the agent’s offices.... Two people offered to take me without a salary. One woman suggested ten shillings a week and my lunch. She expected me to find myself a room, clothes, breakfast and supper on ten shillings a week. That settled me. I wrote to Eddie and said I was coming. When I’d paid my fare I had eight pounds in the Hornby. Don’t call it a station, call it a depÔt. Norah. My whole fortune consisted of seven dollars and thirty-five cents. [Marsh comes in and gives Hornby a glance.] Marsh. What about that wood you were splitting, Reg? You’d better be getting on with it. Hornby. Oh, lord, is there no rest for the wicked? [He gets up slowly and saunters lazily to the door.] Marsh. Don’t hurry yourself, will you? Hornby. Brilliant sarcasm is just flying about the house to-day. [He goes out.] Marsh. That’s about the toughest nut I’ve ever been set to crack. Why on earth did you give him a letter to me? Norah. He asked me. I couldn’t very well say no. [Throughout the scene Norah goes on ironing things which she takes from a pile of washing in the basket.] Marsh. I can’t make out what people are up to in the Old Country. They think that if a man is too big a rotter to do anything at all in England they’ve only got to send him out here and he’ll make a fortune. Norah. He may improve. Marsh. [With a look at Norah.] You’ve thoroughly upset Gertie. Norah. She’s very easily upset, isn’t she? Marsh. It’s only since you came that things haven’t gone right. We never used to have scenes. Norah. Do you blame me? I came prepared to like her and help her. She met all my advances with suspicion. Marsh. She thinks you look down upon her. You ought to remember that she never had your opportunities. She’s earned her own living from the time she was thirteen. You can’t expect in her the refinements of a woman who’s led the protected life that you have. Norah. I haven’t said a word that could be turned into the least suggestion of disapproval of anything she did. Marsh. My dear, your whole manner has expressed disapproval. You won’t do things in the way we do them. After all, the way you lived in Tunbridge Wells isn’t the only way people can live. Our ways suit us, and when you live amongst us you must adopt them. Norah. She never gave me a chance to learn them. She treated me with suspicion and enmity from the very first day I came here. When she sneered at me because I talked of a station instead of a depÔt, of course I went on talking of a station. Because I prefer to drink water with my meals instead of strong tea she said I was putting on side. Marsh. Why can’t you humour her? You see, you’ve got to take the blame for all the English people who came here in the past and were lazy, worthless, and supercilious. They called us Colonials and turned up their noses at us. What d’you expect us to do? Say, “Thank you very much, sir; we know we’re not worthy to black your boots; and don’t bother to work—it’ll be a pleasure for us to give you money”? It’s no good blinking the fact, there was a great prejudice against the English, but it’s giving way now, and every sensible man and woman who comes out can do something to destroy it. Norah. [With a shrug of the shoulders.] If you’re tired of having me here I can go back to Winnipeg. I shan’t have any difficulty in finding something to do. Marsh. Good lord, I don’t want you to go. I like having you here, and it’s company for Gertie. And you know, jobs aren’t so easy to find as you think, especially now the winter’s coming on. Everyone wants a job in the city. Norah. What d’you want me to do? Marsh. Well, you’ve got to live with Gertie. Why can’t you make the best of things and meet her half way? You might make allowances for her even if you think her unreasonable. Norah. I’ll have a try. Marsh. I think you ought to apologise for what you said to her just now. Norah. I? I’ve got nothing to apologise for. She drove me to distraction. [There is a moment’s pause. Marsh, now that he has come to the object of all he has been saying, is a little embarrassed.] Marsh. She says she won’t speak to you again until you beg her pardon. Norah. Does she look upon that as a great hardship? Marsh. My dear, we’re twelve miles from the nearest store. We’re thrown upon one another through the whole of the winter. Last year there was a bad blizzard, and for six weeks we didn’t see a soul outside the farm. Unless we learn to put up with one another’s whims life becomes a perfect hell. Norah. You can go on talking all night, Eddie—I’ll never apologise. Time after time when she sneered at me till my blood boiled. I’ve kept my temper. She deserved ten times more than I said. D’you think I’m going to knuckle under to a woman like that? Marsh. Remember she’s my wife, Norah. Norah. Why didn’t you marry a lady? Marsh. What the dickens d’you think is the use of being a lady out here? Norah. You’ve degenerated since you left England. Marsh. Now, look here, my dear, I’ll just tell you what Gertie did for me. She was a waitress in Winnipeg at the Minnedosa Hotel, and she was making money. She knew what the life was on a farm, much harder than anything she’d been used to in the city, but she accepted all the hardship of it, and the monotony—because she loved me. Norah. She thought it a good match. You were a gentleman. Marsh. Fiddledidee. She had the chance of much better men than me.... And when I lost my harvest two years running, d’you know what she did? She went back to the hotel in Winnipeg for the winter so as to carry things on till the next harvest. And at the end of the winter she gave me every cent she’d earned to pay the interest of my mortgage and the instalments on the machinery. [There is a pause.] Norah. Very well, I’ll apologise. But leave me alone with her. I—I don’t think I could do it before anyone else. Marsh. All right. I’ll go and tell her. [He goes out. Norah is left alone with her thoughts. In a moment Gertie comes back, followed by Marsh.] Norah. [Trying to take things lightly.] I’ve been getting on with the ironing. Gertie. Have you? Norah. [With a smile.] That is one of the few things I can do all right. Gertie. Any child can iron. Marsh. Well, I’ll be going down to the shed. Gertie. [Turning to him quickly.] What for? Marsh. I want to see about mending that door. It hasn’t been closing properly. Gertie. I thought Norah had something to say to me. Marsh. That’s what I’m going to leave you alone for. Gertie. I like that. She insults me before everybody and then when she’s going to apologise it’s got to be private. No, thank you. Norah. What d’you mean, Gertie? Gertie. You sent Ed in to tell me you was going to apologise for what you’d said, didn’t you? Norah. For peace and quietness. Gertie. Well, what you said was before the men, and it’s before the men you must say you’re sorry. Norah. How can you ask me to do such a thing! Marsh. Don’t be rough on her, Gertie. No one likes apologising. Gertie. People who don’t like apologising should keep a better lookout on their tongue. Marsh. It can’t do you any good to have her eat humble pie before the men. Gertie. Perhaps not, but it’ll do her good. Norah. Gertie, don’t be cruel. I’m sorry if I lost my temper just now and said anything that hurt you. Please don’t make me humiliate myself before the others. Gertie. I’ve made up my mind, so it’s no good talking. Norah. Don’t you see it’s bad enough to beg your pardon before Eddie? Gertie. [Irritably.] Why don’t you call him Ed like the rest of us? Eddie sounds so soppy. Norah. I’ve called him Eddie all my life.... It’s what his mother called him. Gertie. You do everything you can to make yourself different from all of us. Norah. No, I don’t, I promise you I don’t. Why won’t you give me any credit for trying to do my best to please you? Gertie. That’s neither here nor there. Go and fetch the men, Ed, and then I’ll hear what she’s got to say. Norah. No, I won’t, I won’t, I won’t. You drive me too far. Gertie. You won’t beg my pardon? Norah. [Beside herself.] I said I could teach you manners. I made a mistake, I couldn’t teach you manners. One can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Marsh. [Sharply.] Shut up, Norah. Gertie. Now you must make her, Ed. Marsh. I’m sick to death of the pair of you. Gertie. I’m your wife, and I’m going to be mistress of this house. Marsh. It’s horrible to make her eat humble pie before three strange men. You’ve got no right to ask her to do a thing like that. Gertie. [Furiously.] Are you taking her part? What’s come over you since she come here? You’re not the same to me as you used to be. Why did she come here and get between us? Marsh. I haven’t done anything. Gertie. Haven’t I been a good wife to you? Have you ever had any complaint to make about me? Marsh. You know I haven’t. Gertie. As soon as your sister comes along you let me be insulted. You don’t say a word to defend me. Marsh. [With a grim smile.] Darling, you’ve said a good many to defend yourself. Gertie. I’m sick and tired of being put upon. You must choose between us. Marsh. What on earth d’you mean? Gertie. If you don’t make her apologise right now before the hired men I’m quit of you. Marsh. I can’t make her apologise if she won’t. Gertie. Then let her quit. Norah. Oh, I wish I could. I wish to God I could. Marsh. You know she can’t do that. There’s nowhere she can go. I’ve offered her a home. You were quite willing when I suggested having her here. Gertie. I was willing because I thought she’d make herself useful. We can’t afford to feed folks as don’t earn their keep. We have to work for our money, we do. Norah. I didn’t know you grudged me the little I eat. I wonder if I should if I were in your place. Marsh. Look here, it’s no good talking. I’m not going to turn her out. As long as she wants a home the farm’s open to her. And she’s welcome to everything I’ve got. Gertie. Then you choose her? Marsh. [Irritably.] I don’t know what you’re talking about. Gertie. I said you’d got to choose between us. Very well. Let her stay. I earned my living before, and I can earn it again. I’m going. Marsh. Don’t talk such nonsense. Gertie. You think I don’t mean it? D’you think I’m going to stay here and be put upon? Why should I? Marsh. Don’t you—love me any more? Gertie. Haven’t I shown that I love you? Have you forgotten, Ed? Marsh. We’ve gone through so much together, darling. Gertie. [Hesitatingly.] Yes, we have that. Marsh. Won’t you forgive her? Gertie. No, I can’t. You’re a man, you don’t understand. If she won’t apologise, either she must go or I shall. Marsh. I can’t lose you, Gertie. What should I do without you? Gertie. I guess you know me well enough by now. When I say a thing I do it. Norah. Eddie. Marsh. [Ill at ease.] After all, she’s my wife. If it weren’t for her I should be hiring out now at forty dollars a month. [Norah hesitates for a moment, then she makes up her mind.] Norah. [Hoarsely.] Very well, I’ll do what you want. Marsh. You do insist on it, Gertie? Gertie. Of course I do. Marsh. I’ll go and call the men. Norah. Frank Taylor needn’t come, need he? Gertie. Why not? Norah. He’s going away to-day. It can’t much matter about him, surely. Gertie. Why are you so particular about it, then? Norah. The others are English. He’ll like to see me humiliated. He looks upon women as dirt. He’s.... Oh, I don’t know, but not before him. Gertie. It’ll do you a world of good to be taken down a peg or two, my lady. Norah. Oh, how heartless—how cruel. Gertie. Go on, Ed—I want to get on with my work. [Marsh hesitates a moment, then shrugs his shoulders and goes out.] Norah. [Passionately.] Why do you humiliate me like this? Gertie. You came here and thought you knew everything, I guess. You didn’t know who you’d got to deal with. Norah. I was a stranger and homeless. If you’d had any kindness you wouldn’t have treated me so. I wanted to be fond of you. Gertie. You despised me before you ever saw me. [Norah covers her eyes for a moment with both hands, and then forces herself to make another appeal.] Norah. Oh, Gertie, can’t we be friends? Can’t we let bygones be bygones and start afresh? We’re both fond of Eddie. He’s your husband and you love him, and he’s the only relation I have in the world. Won’t you let me be a real sister to you? Gertie. It’s rather late to say all that now. Norah. But it’s not too late, is it? I don’t know what I do that irritates you. I can see how competent you are, and I admire you so much. I know how splendid you’ve been with Eddie, and how you’ve stuck to him through thick and thin. You’ve done everything for him. Gertie. [Breaking in violently.] Oh, don’t go on patronising me. I shall go crazy. Norah. [Astounded.] Patronising you? Gertie. You talk to me as if I was a naughty child. You might be a school teacher. Norah. It seems perfectly hopeless. Gertie. Even when you’re begging my pardon you put on airs. You ask me to forgive you as if you was doing me a favour. Norah. [With a chuckle.] I must have a very unfortunate manner. Gertie. [Furiously.] Don’t laugh at me. Norah. Don’t make yourself ridiculous, then. Gertie. D’you think I shall ever forget what you wrote to Ed before I married him? Norah. [Looking at her quickly.] I don’t know what you mean. Gertie. Don’t you? You told him it would be a disgrace if he married me. He was a gentleman and I.... Oh, you spread yourself out. Norah. He oughtn’t to have shown you the letter. Gertie. He was dotty about me. Norah. I had a perfect right to try and prevent the marriage before it took place. But after it happened I only wanted to make the best of it. If you had a grudge against me why did you let me come here? Gertie. Ed wanted it, and it was lonely enough sometimes with the men away all day and no one to talk to. I thought you’d be company for me.... I can’t bear it when Ed talks to you about the Old Country and people I don’t know nothing about. Norah. [Surprised.] Are you jealous? Gertie. It’s my house and I’m mistress here. I won’t be put upon. What did you want to come here for, upsetting everybody? Till you come I never had a word with Ed. Oh, I hate you, I hate you. Norah. Gertie. Gertie. You’ve given me a chance and I’m going to take it. I’m going to take you down a peg or two. Norah. You’re doing all you can to drive me away from here. Gertie. You don’t think it’s much catch to have you. You talk of getting a job—you couldn’t get one. I know something about that, my girl. You! You can do nothing.... Here they are. Now take your medicine. [Ed Marsh comes in, followed by Trotter and Frank Taylor. Frank has taken off his overalls.] Gertie. Where’s Reg? Marsh. He’s just coming. Gertie. Do they know what they’re here for? Marsh. No, I didn’t tell them. [Hornby comes in.] Gertie. Norah insulted me a while ago before all of you, and I guess she wants to apologise. Taylor. If you told me it was that, Ed, you wanted me to come here for, I reckon I’d have told you to go to hell. Norah. Why? Taylor. I’ve got other things to do beside bothering my head about women’s quarrels. Norah. Oh, I beg your pardon, I thought it was some kindly feeling in you. Gertie. Go on, Norah, we’re waiting. [Norah hesitates a moment and then takes her courage in both hands.] Norah. I’m sorry I was rude to you, Gertie. I apologise for what I said. Taylor. [With a quiet smile.] You didn’t find that very easy to say, I reckon. Marsh. There’s nothing more to be said, is there? Gertie. I’m quite satisfied. Marsh. We’d better get back to work, then. [The men turn to go.] Gertie. Let this be a lesson to you, my girl. [Norah starts at the words. It is the last straw.] Norah. Frank, will you wait a minute? Taylor. [A little surprised.] Sure. What can I do for you? Norah. I’ve understood that I’m not wanted here. I’m in the way. You said just now you wanted a woman to cook and bake for you, wash and mend your clothes, and keep your shack clean and tidy. Will I do? Taylor. [Rather amused.] Sure. Marsh. [Horrified.] Norah. Norah. [With a twinkle in her eye.] I’m afraid you’ll have to marry me. Taylor. I guess it would be more respectable. Marsh. Norah, you can’t mean it. You’re in a temper. See here, Frank, you mustn’t pay any attention to her. Gertie. Shameless, that’s what I call it. Norah. Why? He wants a woman to look after him. He practically proposed to me half an hour ago. Didn’t you? Taylor. Practically. Hornby. I’m bound to say I’ve never heard a proposal refused so emphatically. Marsh. You’ve been like cat and dog with Frank ever since you came. My dear, you don’t know what you’re in for. Norah. If he’s willing to risk it, I am. Taylor. [Looking at her gravely.] It ain’t an easy life you’re coming to. This farm’s a palace compared with my shack. Norah. I’m not wanted here, and you say you want me. If you’ll take me, I’ll come. Taylor. I’ll take you all right. When will you be ready? Will an hour do for you? Norah. [Suddenly panic-stricken.] An hour? Taylor. Why, yes, then we can catch the three-thirty into Winnipeg. You can go to the Y.W.C.A. for the night and we’ll be buckled up in the morning. Norah. You’re in a great hurry. Taylor. I suppose you meant it? You weren’t just pulling a bluff? [Norah hesitates for a moment and they look at one another.] Norah. I shall be ready in an hour. END OF THE SECOND ACT |
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