GEORGE: You mean Dr. Jonathan?

MINNIE. Yes.

GEORGE (reflecting). I don't know. I'm learning them from you, from
everybody.

MINNIE. Maybe he put you wise.

GEORGE. Well, I don't feel wise. And seeing you again this morning
brought it all back to me.

MINNIE. You were only fooling.

GEORGE. I began that way,--I'll own up. But I told you I'd never met a
girl like you, you're full of pep--courage--something I can't describe.
I was crazy about you,--that's straight,--but I didn't realize it until
you ran off, and then I went after you,--but it was no good! I don't
claim to have been square with you, and I've been thinking--well, that
I'm responsible.

MINNIE. Responsible for what?

GEORGE. Well-for your throwing yourself away down there at Newcastle.
You're too good.

MINNIE (with heat). Throwing myself away?

GEORGE. Didn't you? Didn't you break loose?--have a good time?

MINNIE. Why wouldn't I have a good time? That's what you were having,--a
good time with me,--wasn't it? And say, did you ever stop to think what
one day of a working girl's life was like?

GEORGE. One day?

MINNIE. With an alarm clock scaring you out of sweet dreams in the
winter, while it's dark, and you get up and dress in the cold and heat
a little coffee over a lamp and beat it for the factory,--and stand on
your feet all morning, in a noise that would deafen you, feeding a thing
you ain't got no interest in? It don't never need no rest! By eleven
o'clock you think you're all in, that the morning'll never end, but at
noon you get a twenty five cent feed that lasts you until about five in
the afternoon,--and then you don't know which way the machine's headed.
I've often thought of one of them cutters at Shale's as a sort of
monster, watching you all day, waiting to get you when you're too tired
to care. (Dreamily.) When it looks all blurred, and you want to put your
hand in it.

GEORGE. Good God, Minnie!

MINNIE. And when the whistle blows at night all you have is your little
hall bedroom in a rooming house that smells of stale smoke and cabbage.
There's no place to go except the streets--but you've just got to go
somewhere, to break loose and have a little fun,--even though you're so
tired you want to throw yourself on the bed and cry.

(A pause.)

Maybe it's because you're tired. When you're tired that way is when you
want a good time most. It's funny, but it's so.

(A pause.)

You ain't got no friends except a fe