Mr. Edwards: What's the matter, Mary?
Mary: You know what's wrong, Mr. Edwards, just as well as I do. What we're doing here is wrong. What we decided back in the beginning was wrong!
Mr. Edwards: Wrong? There's nothing wrong about it. Look at him down there. He'll have that field busted by sundown tomorrow. You've got yourself a good farmer down there, and he's doing it all for you.
Mary: That's what's wrong about it! He's doing it for me, and for you, not for himself! He isn't a farmer. He wasn't born to be a farmer. He was born for this. He was born for books, and words, and the music he can make with them, and we're taking that away from him!
Mr. Edwards: When you marry a girl, you don't want to--
Mary: It's true! You know it's true! We can't hold him like a meadow lark in a cage! He'll stay if we ask him to, with the life gone out of him, and the music. I want him, more than you do, maybe, but not that way. I don't think you do, either. Do you?