  Scene: Frank Taylor’s shack at Prentice, Manitoba. It is a low log cabin, consisting of two rooms. The scene is the living-room. There is a door at the back towards the left-hand side, and on the right is another door that leads into the bedroom. A very small low window at the back. There is a stove on the left, with a long chimney. On the walls, untidily tacked up, are pictures cut out of the illustrated papers. Hanging on a nail is a Cariboo coat. On a shelf beside the stove are the few pots and pans that Frank Taylor possesses. They are battered and much used. There is a broom in the corner. The furniture consists of a rocking-chair, worn with use and shabby, a table roughly made by Taylor himself from packing-cases, one kitchen chair and two or three packing-cases used as stools. On another shelf are maple-syrup tins, in which groceries are kept. In one corner there is an old suit-case, locally known as a grip, and a heap of old clothes; in another corner is a pile of tattered magazines and numbers of the Winnipeg Free Press. The shack has an untidy, comfortless, bedraggled air. When the curtain rises the scene is dark and empty. There is a faint glimmer of light through the window. The night is bright and starry. There is a slight noise of a rig being driven up outside, and then voices are heard. Sharp. Woa there! Woa! Taylor. A tidy pull, that last bit. Trail’s very bad. Sharp. Stop still, you brute. Taylor. I guess she wants to get home. [Now comes the sound of a key being put into the lock. It is turned noisily and the door is opened wide. A rig stands outside and Sharp is seen still seated holding the reins. Norah has just got down. Tied on the back of the rig are Norah’s trunk and Taylor’s grip. There is a glimpse of the prairie and the bright Canadian night. Taylor comes in. He is wearing a waterproof coat lined with sheepskin, a dark, roughly cut suit of some coarse blue material, and a broad-brimmed, flat-crowned hat.] Taylor. Wait a minute, and I’ll light the lamp. [He strikes a match and looks round.] Where in hell has it got to? The shack’s about two foot by three, and I’m blamed if I can ever find a darned thing. Sharp. I’ll give you a hand with that trunk. [As he speaks he begins to get down. Taylor finds the lamp and lights it.] Taylor. I’ll come and help you if you’ll wait a bit. Come in, Norah. Sharp. Woa there! [Norah comes in. She has on a hat and coat. She carries a string bag in which there is a number of parcels.] Norah. I’m quite stiff after that long drive. Taylor. Are you cold? Norah. No, not a bit. I was well wrapped up. Taylor. I guess it’s freezing. But it’s your first winter and you won’t feel the cold like we do. Norah. [Putting down her bag.] I’ll bring some of the things in. Taylor. Don’t touch the trunk, it’s too heavy for you. Norah. I’m as strong as a horse. Taylor. Don’t touch it. Norah. [With a smile.] I won’t. [He goes out and takes more parcels out of the rig and comes in with them.] Taylor. We can all do with a cup of tea. Just have a look at the stove. It won’t take two shakes to light a fire. Norah. It seems hardly worth while. It’s so late. Taylor. [Cheerily.] Light the fire, my girl, and don’t talk about it. [He goes out and is seen helping Sharp to unfasten the trunk. Norah, getting down on her knees, rakes out the ashes from the stove. Taylor and Sharp bring the box in between them. Sharp is a rough-looking man of forty. He has been a non-commissioned officer in an English regiment, and has still something of a soldier’s look.] Sharp. This trunk of yours isn’t what you might call light, Mrs. Taylor. Norah. It contains all I own in the world. Taylor. I guess it don’t do that. Since this morning you own a half share in a hundred and sixty acres of as good land as there is in Manitoba and a mighty fine shack. Norah. To say nothing of a husband. Sharp. Where d’you want this put? Taylor. It ’ud better go in the next room right away, or we shall be falling over it. [They carry the trunk into the bedroom. Norah gets up from her knees, goes over to a pile of logs by the stove, and takes two or three and some of the newspapers. The men come in again.] Taylor. Here, you won’t be able to light a fire with logs like that. Where’s that darned axe? [He glances round and sees it by the logs. He takes a couple and splits them.] I guess you’ll have plenty to do getting the shack tidy. [Sharp brings in Taylor’s grip and his gun.] Now, that’s real good of you, Sid. Sharp. Get any shooting down at Dyer, Frank? Taylor. There was a rare lot of prairie chickens around, but I didn’t get out more than a couple of days. Sharp. Well, I’ll be getting back home now. Taylor. Oh, stay and have a cup of tea, won’t you? Sharp. I don’t think I will. It’s getting late and the mare’ll get cold. Taylor. Put her in the shed. Sharp. No, I think I’ll be toddling. My missus says I was to give you her compliments, Mrs. Taylor, and she’ll be round to-morrow to see if there’s anything you want. Norah. That’s very kind of her. Thank you very much. Taylor. Sid lives where you saw that light just about a mile from here, Norah. Mrs. Sharp’ll be able to help you a lot at first. Sharp. Oh, well, we’ve been here for thirteen years, and we know the way of the country by now. Taylor. Norah’s about as green as a new dollar bill, I guess. Sharp. There’s a lot you can’t be expected to know at first. I’ll say good-night, then, and good luck. Taylor. Well, good-night then, Sid, if you won’t stay, and it was real good of you to come and fetch us in the rig. Sharp. Oh, that’s all right. Good-night to you, Mrs. Taylor. Norah. Good-night. [Sharp goes out, gets on the rig, and drives away.] Taylor. I guess it must seem funny to you to hear him call you Mrs. Taylor, eh? [Norah gives him a quick look, and represses a little shudder.] Norah. Yes. Taylor. How are you getting on with that fire? Norah. All right. Taylor. I guess I’ll get some water. [He takes a pail and goes out. He is heard pumping. Norah gets up, lifts the lamp so as to see better, and looks round. She is pale, and has a frightened look. She does not hear Frank come in, and starts violently when he speaks to her.] Taylor. Having a look at the shack? Norah. [Putting the lamp down.] How you startled me. Taylor. What d’you think of it? Norah. I don’t know. Taylor. I built it with my own hands. Every one of them logs was a tree I cut down myself. You wait till the morning and I’ll show you how they’re joined together at the corners. There’s some neat work there, my girl, I guess. Norah. Here’s the kettle. [He pours water into it from the pail, and she puts the kettle on the stove.] Taylor. You’ll find some tea in one of them tins on the shelf. Leastways there was some there when I come away. I guess you’re hungry. Norah. I don’t think I am, very. I ate a very good supper in the train. Taylor. I’m glad you call that a good supper. I guess I could wrap up the amount you ate in a postal stamp. Norah. [Smiling.] I haven’t a very large appetite. Taylor. I have. Where’s the loaf we got in Winnipeg this afternoon? Norah. I’ll get it. Taylor. And the butter. You’ll bake to-morrow, I reckon. [Norah gets a loaf and a piece of butter out of the string bag she brought in with her. She puts them on the table.] Norah. Shall I cut you some? Taylor. Yep. Norah. Please. Taylor. Please what? Norah. [With a smile.] Yes, please. Taylor. Oh! [He gives her a look, and she, a quiet smile on her face, cuts two or three pieces of bread and butter. Then she gets tea out of the tin and puts it in a teapot.] Taylor. I guess you’d better take your hat and coat off. [Norah does so without answering.] Taylor. You ain’t terribly talkative for a woman, my girl. Norah. I haven’t got anything to say at the moment. Taylor. Well, I guess it’s better to have a wife as talks too little than a wife as talks too much. Norah. [With her tongue in her cheek.] I suppose absolute perfection is rare—in women, poor wretches. Taylor. What’s that? Norah. I was only amusing myself with a reflection. [Taylor takes off his coat and appears in a grey sweater. He sits down in the rocking chair.] Taylor. I guess there’s no place like home. You get a bit fed up with hiring out. Ed was O.K., I reckon, but it ain’t like being your own boss. Norah. [Pointing.] What’s through there? Taylor. Oh, that’s the bedroom. Like to have a look? Norah. No. Taylor. When I built the shack I fixed it up so as it would do when I got married. Sid Sharp asked me what in hell I wanted to divide it up in half for, but I guess women like little luxuries like that. Norah. Like what? Taylor. Like having a room to sleep in and a room to live in. Norah. Here’s the bread and butter. Will you have some syrup? Taylor. Sure. [He gets up and sits down at the table.] Norah. That water ought to be boiling by now. What about milk? Taylor. That’s one of the things you’ll have to do without till I can afford to buy a cow. Norah. I can’t drink tea without milk. Taylor. You try. Say, can you milk a cow? Norah. I? No. Taylor. Then it’s just as well I ain’t got one. Norah. You’re a philosopher. [She lifts the cover off the kettle and looks at it, then pours some water into the teapot, and sets it down on the table.] Norah. Is there a candle? I’ll just get one or two things out of my box. Taylor. Ain’t you going to sit down and have a cup of tea? Norah. I don’t want any, thanks. Taylor. Sit down, my girl. Norah. Why? Taylor. [Smiling.] Because I tell you to. Norah. [Quite pleasantly.] I don’t think you’d better tell me to do things. Taylor. Then I ask you. You ain’t going to refuse the first favour I’ve asked you? Norah. [With a pretty smile.] Of course not. [She sits down.] There. Taylor. Now pour out my tea for me, will you? [He watches her do it.] It is rum seeing my wife sitting down at my table and pouring out tea for me. Norah. Is it pleasant? Taylor. Sure. Now have some yourself, my girl. You’ll soon get used to drinking it without milk. And I guess you’ll be able to get some to-morrow from Mrs. Sharp. [Norah pours herself out some tea.] Taylor. I had a sort of a feeling I wanted you and me to have the first meal together in your new home. Just take a bit of the bread and butter. [He passes over to her a slice and, smiling, she cuts a little piece off and eats it.] Taylor. We ain’t lost much time, I guess. Why, it’s only yesterday you told me not to call you Norah. Norah. That was very silly of me. I was in a temper. Taylor. And now we’re man and wife. Norah. Married in haste with a vengeance. Taylor. Ain’t you a bit scared? Norah. I? What of? You? Taylor. With Ed on t’other side of Winnipeg, he might just as well be in the Old Country for all the good he can be to you. You might be a bit scared to find yourself alone with a man you don’t know. Norah. I’m not nervous. Taylor. Good for you. Norah. You did give me a fright, though. When I asked you if you’d take me, I suppose it was only about fifteen seconds before you answered, but it seemed like ten minutes. I thought you might refuse. Taylor. I was thinking. Norah. [Smiling.] Counting up my good points and setting them against the bad ones? Taylor. No, I was thinking you wouldn’t have asked me like that if you hadn’t—despised me. [Norah, a little taken aback, gives him a quick look, but she tries to pass it off lightly.] Norah. I don’t know what makes you think that. Taylor. Well, I don’t know how you could have put it more plainly that my name was mud. Norah. Why didn’t you refuse, then? Taylor. I guess I’m not a nervous fellow, either. Norah. [With a twinkle in her eye.] And women are scarce in Manitoba. Taylor. I always fancied an Englishwoman. They make the best wives when they’ve been licked into shape. Norah. [Frankly amused.] Are you proposing to attempt that operation on me? Taylor. You’re clever. I guess a hint or two is about all you’ll want. Norah. It embarrasses me when you pay me compliments. Taylor. I’ll take you round and show you the land to-morrow. I ain’t done all the clearing yet, so there’ll be plenty of work for the winter. I want to have a hundred acres to sow next year. And then if I get a good crop I’ve a mind to take another quarter. You can’t make it pay really without you’ve got half a section. And it’s a tough proposition when you ain’t got capital. Norah. I didn’t think I was marrying a millionaire. Taylor. Never mind, my girl, you shan’t live in a shack long, I promise you. It’s the greatest country in the world. We only want three good crops and you shall have a brick house same as you lived in at home. Norah. I wonder what they’re doing in England now. Taylor. Well, I guess they’re asleep. Norah. When I think of England I always think of it at tea-time. [She looks at the tea-things they have just used.] Miss Wickham had a beautiful old silver teapot—George II.—and she was awfully proud of it. And she was very proud of her tea-set—it was old Worcester—and she wouldn’t let anyone wash the things but.... And two or three times a week an old Indian judge came in to tea, and he used to talk to me about the East—oh, why did you make me think of it all? Taylor. The past is dead and gone, my girl. We’ve got the future. Norah. [Paying no attention to his words.] One never knows when one’s well off, does one? It’s madness to think of what’s gone for ever. Taylor. I wish we’d got a drop of liquor here so as we could drink one another’s health. But as we ain’t you’d better give me a kiss instead. Norah. [Lightly.] I’m not very fond of kissing. Taylor. [With a smile.] It ain’t generally an acquired taste, but I guess you’re peculiar. Norah. It looks like it. Taylor. Come, my girl, you didn’t even kiss me after we was married. Norah. [In a perfectly friendly way.] Isn’t a hint enough for you? Why do you force me to say everything in so many words? Taylor. It seems to me it wants a few words to make it plain when a woman refuses to give her husband a kiss. Norah. Do sit down, there’s a good fellow, and I’ll tell you one or two things. Taylor. That’s terribly kind of you. [He sinks back into the rocking-chair.] Have you any choice of seats? Norah. You’ve taken the only one that’s tolerably comfortable. I think there’s nothing to choose between the others. Taylor. Nothing. Norah. I think we’d better fix things up before we go any further. Taylor. Sure. Norah. You gave me to understand very plainly that you wanted a wife in order to get a general servant without having to pay her wages. Wages are high in Canada. Taylor. That was the way you put it. Norah. Baching isn’t very comfortable. Taylor. Not very. Norah. You wanted someone to cook and bake for you, wash, sweep, and mend. I offered to come and do all that. It never struck me for an instant that there was any possibility of your expecting anything else of me. Taylor. Then you’re a damned fool, my girl. Norah. [Firing up.] D’you mind not saying things like that to me? Taylor. [Good-humouredly.] I guess I shall have to say a good many things like that before we’ve done. Norah. I asked you to marry me only because I couldn’t stay in the shack without. Taylor. I guess you asked me to marry you because you was in a hell of a temper. You wanted to get away from Ed’s farm right then, and you didn’t care what you did so long as you quit. But you was darned sorry for what you’d done by the time you’d packed your box. Norah. [Frigidly.] What makes you think that? Taylor. Why, when you come back in the kitchen you was as white as a sheet. You wanted to say you’d changed your mind, but your darned pride wouldn’t let you. Norah. I wouldn’t have stayed on in that house for anything in the world. Taylor. And this morning, when I called for you at the Y.W.C.A., you wanted to say you wouldn’t marry me. You tried to speak the words, but they wouldn’t Norah. I was nervous for a moment. After all, one isn’t married every day of one’s life, is one? Taylor. If I hadn’t shown you the licence and the ring, I guess you wouldn’t have done it. You hadn’t the nerve to back out of it then. Norah. I hadn’t slept a wink all night. I kept on turning it over in my mind. I was frightened at what I’d done. But I didn’t know a soul in Winnipeg. I hadn’t anywhere to go. I had four dollars in my pocket. I had to go through with it. Taylor. You took pretty good stock of me in the train on the way here, I guess. Norah. [Recovering herself.] What makes you think so? Taylor. Well, I felt you was looking at me a good deal. It wasn’t hard to see that you was turning me over in your mind. What conclusion did you come to? Norah. You see, I lived all those years with an old lady. I know very little about men. Taylor. I guessed that. Norah. I came to the conclusion that you were a decent fellow. I thought you would be kind to me. Taylor. Bouquets are just flying around. Have you got anything more to say to me? Norah. No. Taylor. Then just get me my pouch, will you? I guess it’s in the pocket of my coat. [She hesitates a moment, looks at him, then gets it.] Norah. Here you are. Taylor. [With his tongue in his cheek.] I thought you was going to tell me I could darned well get it myself. Norah. I don’t very much like being ordered about. Taylor. You never paid much attention to me till to-day, I reckon. Norah. I was always polite to you. Taylor. Very. But I was the hired man, and you never let me forget it. You thought yourself a darned sight better than me because you could play the piano and speak French. But we ain’t got a piano, and there ain’t anyone as speaks French nearer than Winnipeg. Norah. What are you driving at? Taylor. Parlour tricks ain’t much good on the prairie. They’re like dollar bills up in Hudson Bay. Tobacco’s the only thing you can trade with an Esquimaux. You can’t cook very well, you don’t know how to milk a cow—why, you can’t even harness a horse. Norah. Are you regretting your bargain already? Taylor. No, I guess I can teach you. But if I was you I wouldn’t put on any frills. We shall get along O.K., I guess, when we’ve shaken down. Norah. You’ll find I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Taylor. [Ignoring the remark.] When two people live together in a shack there’s got to be a deal of give and take on both sides. As long as you do what I tell you you’ll be all right. Norah. [With a smile.] It’s unfortunate that when anyone tells me to do a thing I have an irresistible desire not to do it. Taylor. I guess I tumbled to that. You must get over it. Norah. You’ve talked to me once or twice in a way I don’t like. I think we shall get on better if you ask me to do things. Taylor. Don’t forget that I can make you do them. Norah. [Amused.] How? Taylor. Well, I’m stronger than you are. Norah. A man can hardly use force in his dealings with a woman. Taylor. Oh? Norah. You seem surprised. Taylor. What’s going to prevent him? Norah. [With a little laugh.] Don’t be so silly. [He gives her a look and then smiles quietly to himself.] Taylor. Well, I’m going to unpack my grip. [Pointing to the tea-things.] Wash up them things. Norah. [With a slight shrug of the shoulders.] I’ll wash them up in the morning. Taylor. Wash ’em up now, my girl. You’ll find the only way to keep things clean is to wash ’em the moment you’ve done with them. [Norah looks at him with a slight smile on her face, but does not move.] Taylor. Did you hear what I said? Norah. I did. Taylor. Why don’t you do as I tell you? Norah. [Smiling.] Because I don’t choose. Taylor. You ain’t taken long to try it out. Norah. They say there’s no time like the present. Taylor. Are you going to wash up them things? Norah. No. [He looks at her for a moment, then gets up, pours water into a pail and puts a ragged dishcloth on the table.] Taylor. Are you going to wash up them things? Norah. No. Taylor. D’you want me to make you? Norah. How can you do that? Taylor. I’ll show you. Norah. I’ll just get out these rugs, shall I? I expect it gets very cold towards morning. [She gets up and goes over to a holdall and begins unstrapping it.] Taylor. Norah. Norah. Yes. Taylor. Come here. Norah. Why? Taylor. Because I tell you. [She looks at him, but does not move. He goes over to her and is about to seize her wrist.] Norah. You daren’t touch me. Taylor. Who told you that? Norah. Have you forgotten that I’m a woman? Taylor. No, I haven’t. That’s why I’m going to make you do as I tell you. If you was a man I mightn’t be able to. Come now. [He makes a movement to take her by the arm, but she slips away from him and quickly boxes his ears. He stops.] Taylor. That was a darned silly thing to do. Norah. What did you expect? Taylor. I expected you was cleverer than to hit me. You see, when it comes to—to muscle, I guess I’ve got the bulge on you. Norah. I’m not frightened of you. Taylor. Now come and wash up these things. Norah. I won’t. Taylor. Come on. [He takes her wrists and tries to drag her to the table. She struggles with him, but cannot release herself. She kicks him as he drags her to the table.] Norah. Let me go. Taylor. Come on now, my girl. What’s the good of making a darned fuss about it? Norah. You brute, how dare you touch me! You’ll never force me to do anything. Let go! Let go! Let go! [As they reach the table she bends down and bites him. Instinctively he releases her.] Taylor. Gee, what sharp teeth you’ve got. Norah. You cad! You cad! Taylor. [Looking at his hand.] I never thought you’d bite. That ain’t much like a lady. Norah. You filthy cad to hit a woman. Taylor. Gee, I didn’t hit you. You smacked my face and kicked my shins, and you bit my hand. And then you say I hit you. Norah. [With all her passion.] You beast! I hate you. Taylor. I don’t care about that so long as you wash them cups. Norah. Look. [With a sudden sweep of the arm she brushes them off the table, and they fall on the floor and break.] Taylor. That’s a pity. We’re terribly short of crockery. We shall have to drink our tea out of tins now. Norah. I said I wouldn’t wash them and I haven’t washed them. Taylor. They don’t need it now, I guess. Norah. I think I’ve won. Taylor. [With a smile.] Sure. Now take the broom and sweep up all the darned mess you’ve made. Norah. I won’t. Taylor. Look here, my girl, I guess I’ve had about enough of your nonsense. You do as you’re told and look sharp about it. Norah. You can kill me if you like. Taylor. What’s the good of that? Women are scarce in Manitoba.... Here’s the broom. Norah. If you want that mess swept up you can sweep it up yourself. Taylor. You make me tired. [He puts the broom into her hands, but she flings it violently away.] Look here, if you don’t clean up that mess at once, I’ll give you the biggest hiding you’ve ever had in your life. Norah. [Scornfully.] You? Taylor. [Nodding his head.] Yours truly. I’ve done with larking now. [He turns up the sleeves of his sweater. Suddenly she bursts into loud cries.] Norah. Help! Help! Help! Taylor. What’s the good of that? There ain’t no one within a mile of us. Listen. [For a moment they are both silent as they listen to the silence of the prairie.] Norah. If you touch me I’ll have you up for cruelty. There are laws to protect me. Taylor. I don’t care a curse for the laws. I know I’m going to be master here. And if I tell you to do a Norah. I won’t. [He strides up and is just about to catch hold of her when she shrinks back. She sees he is in earnest. She is terrified by his look.] Norah. No, don’t. Don’t hurt me. Taylor. [He stops and looks at her.] I guess there’s only one law here, and that’s the law of the strongest. I don’t know nothing about cities. Perhaps men and women are equal there. But on the prairie a man’s master because he’s bigger and stronger than a woman. Norah. Frank. Taylor. Blast you, don’t talk! [Norah pauses, struggling between her pride and her fear. She will not look at her husband. She feels that he is getting impatient. At last, slowly, she bends down and picks up the teapot, the cups and saucers, and puts them on the table. Then she sinks into the chair and bursts into tears. He watches her with a slight smile on his face, but not unkindly.] Norah. Oh, I’m so unhappy. Taylor. [Without any anger in his voice.] Come on, my girl, don’t shirk the rest of it. [She looks up and sees the mess of spilt tea on the floor. She gets up slowly, keeping her face away from him, and picks up the broom. She sweeps up. When she has finished she puts the broom in the corner. He watches her all the time. Then she takes up her hat and coat and starts to put them on.] Taylor. What are you doing? Norah. I’ve done what you made me do. Now I’m going. Taylor. Where? Norah. What do I care so long as I get away? Taylor. You ain’t under the impression that there’s a first-class hotel round the corner, are you? because there ain’t. Norah. I’ll go to the Sharps. Taylor. I guess they’re in bed and asleep by now. Norah. I can wake them. Taylor. You’d never find your way. It’s pitch dark. Norah. I’ll sleep out of doors, then. Taylor. On the prairie? Why, you’d freeze to death. Norah. What does it matter to you whether I live or die? Taylor. It matters a great deal. Women are scarce in Manitoba. Norah. Are you going to prevent me from going? Taylor. Sure. [He stands in front of the door and faces her.] Norah. You can’t keep me here against my will. If I don’t go to-night, I can go to-morrow. Taylor. To-morrow’s a long way off. [She gives a start and looks at him with staring, terrified eyes, her throat is dry with terror.] Norah. Frank. What d’you mean? Taylor. I don’t know what silly fancies you had in your head. When I married you I intended that you should be a proper wife to me. Norah. But ... but.... [She can hardly speak.] But you understood. [He does not answer. At last she collects herself. She tries to talk calmly and reasonably.] I’m sorry for the way I behaved, Frank. It was childish of me to struggle with you. You irritated me by the way you spoke. Taylor. Oh, I don’t mind. I don’t know much about women and I guess they’re queer. We had to fix things up sometime and I guess there was no harm in getting it over right now. Norah. You’ve beaten me all along the line and I’m in your power. Have mercy on me. Taylor. I guess you won’t have much cause to complain. Norah. I married you in a fit of temper. It was very stupid of me. I’m very sorry that I—that I’ve been all this trouble to you. Won’t you let me go? Taylor. No, I can’t do that. Norah. I’m no good to you. You’ve told me that I’m useless. I can’t do any of the things that you want a wife to do. You can’t be so hard-hearted as to make me pay with all my life for one moment’s madness. Taylor. What good would it do if I let you go? Will you go to Gertie and ask her to take you back again? You’ve got too much pride for that. Norah. I don’t think I’ve got much pride left. Taylor. Don’t you think you’d better give it a try? Norah. All the life was so strange to me. In England they think it’s so different from what it really is. I thought I should have a horse to ride. I expected dances and tennis parties. And when I came out I was so out of it. I felt in the way. And yesterday they drove me frantic so that I felt I couldn’t stay another moment in that house. It was only an impulse. I made a mistake. I didn’t know what I was doing. You can’t have the heart to take advantage of it. Taylor. I knew you was making a mistake, but that was your look out. When I sell a man a horse he can look it over for himself, but I ain’t obliged to tell him its faults. Norah. D’you mean to say that after I’ve begged you almost on my knees to let me go you’ll force me to stay? Taylor. Sure. Norah. Oh, I’m so unhappy. Taylor. Perhaps you won’t be when you get used to it. Norah. [Desperately.] Oh, why did I ever walk into this trap? Taylor. Come, my girl, let us let bygones be bygones and give me a kiss. [She looks at him for a moment.] Norah. I’m not in love with you. Taylor. I guessed that. Norah. And you’re not in love with me. Taylor. You’re a woman and I’m a man. Norah. D’you want me to tell you in so many words that you’re physically repellent to me? The thought of letting you kiss me horrifies and disgusts me. Taylor. [Good-humouredly.] Thank you. Norah. Look at your hands. It gives me goose-flesh when you touch me. Taylor. Cutting down trees, diggin’, looking after horses, don’t leave them very white and smooth. Norah. Let me go. Let me go. [Taylor changes his manner, which has been quite good-humoured, and speaks more sharply and with a certain stern force.] Taylor. See here, my girl—you was educated like a lady and spent your life doing nothing—a lady’s companion, wasn’t you—taking a little dawg out for a walk of a morning and combing out his pretty little coat? And you look upon yourself as a darned sight better than me. I never had no schooling, and it’s a hell of a job for me to write a letter, but since I was so high I’ve earned my living. I guess I’ve been all over this country. I’ve been a trapper and I’ve worked on the railroad, and for two years I’ve been a freighter. I guess I’ve done pretty near everything but serve in a store. Now you just get busy and forget all the nonsense you’ve got in your head. You’re nothing but an ignorant woman and I’m your master. I’m going to do what I like with you, and if you don’t submit willingly, by God I’ll take you as the trappers in the old days used to take the squaws. [He steps towards her, and she, escaping from him, seizes his gun, which is lying against the wall. She lifts it and aims at him.] Norah. If you move I’ll kill you. Taylor. [Stopping suddenly.] You daren’t. Norah. Unless you open the door and let me go I’ll shoot you. I’ll shoot you. Taylor. [Advancing one step.] Shoot, then. [She pulls the trigger. A click is heard, but nothing more.] Taylor. Gee whiz, you meant it. Norah. [Aghast.] It wasn’t loaded. Taylor. Of course it wasn’t loaded. D’you think I’d have stood there and told you to shoot if it had been? I guess I ain’t thinking of committing suicide. Norah. And I almost admired you. Taylor. You hadn’t got no reason to. There’s nothing to admire about a man who stands five feet off a loaded gun that’s being aimed at him. He’s a darned fool, that’s all. Norah. [Throwing the gun aside angrily.] You were laughing at me. Now I’ll never forgive you. Taylor. You’d have had me dead as mutton if that gun had been loaded. You’re a sport. I never thought you had it in you. Norah. I’ll never forgive you. Taylor. You’re the girl for me, I guess. [Before she is prepared he flings his arms round her and tries to kiss her. She struggles desperately, turning her face away from him.] Norah. Let me alone. I’ll kill myself if you touch me. Taylor. I guess you won’t. [He gives her a resounding kiss on the cheek and lets her go. Sinking into a chair, she puts her hands up to her flaming cheeks.] Norah. Oh, how shameful, how shameful. [She sobs in helpless, angry despair. He puts his hand gently on her shoulder.] Taylor. Hadn’t you better cave in, my girl? You’ve tried your strength against mine and it didn’t amount to much. You tried to shoot me and I only made you look a darned fool. I guess you’re beat, my girl. There’s only one law here, and that’s the law of the strongest. You’ve got to do what I want because I can make you. Norah. 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.] END OF THE THIRD ACT |
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