HATTIE: Mr Archer has ordered breakfast served here, (_she uncovers the
basket and takes out an electric toaster_)

ANTHONY: _Breakfast_--here? _Eat_--here? Where plants grow?

HATTIE: The plants won't poison him, will they? (_at a loss to know what
to do with things, she puts the toaster under the strange vine at the
back, whose leaves lift up against the glass which has frost leaves on
the outer side_)

ANTHONY: (_snatching it away_) You--you think you can cook eggs under
the Edge Vine?

HATTIE: I guess Mr Archer's eggs are as important as a vine. I guess my
work's as important as yours.

ANTHONY: There's a million people like you--and like Mr Archer. In all
the world there is only one Edge Vine.

HATTIE: Well, maybe one's enough. It don't look like nothin', anyhow.

ANTHONY: And you've not got the wit to know that that's why it's the
Edge Vine.

HATTIE: You want to look out, Anthony. You talk nutty. Everybody says
so.

ANTHONY: Miss Claire don't say so.

HATTIE: No, because she's--