KATIE’S FATHER: Are you aware, Mr. Galverra, that Katie
has been to a farm only once in her entire life? I happen
to recall the even very vividly. Do you want to tell him
about it, Katherine, or shall I?
KATIE: Dad, I was only twelve years old!
RYAN CONNELLY: So were your friends, Katherine. But
they didn’t scream when the farmer wrung the chicken’s
neck. They didn’t call him a murderer at his own table and
refuse to eat chicken for two year. They didn’t find the
horses smelly; the process of milking a cow ‘gross’; and a
multimillion-dollar farm ‘a great big stinking place
filled with filthy animals.’
KATIE: Well, they didn’t happen to fall into a pile of
manure, get bitten by a goose, or kicked by a blind horse
either!
RYAN: You’re laughing now, Galverra, but you won’t be
laughing when you discover that Katie’s idea of living
within a strict budget is spending everything she makes
and charging anything else she wants to my account. She
cant cook anything that doesn’t come in a bag, box or can;
she doesn’t know which end of a needle to thread; she—
KATIE’S MOTHER: Ryan, you are exaggerating! Katie has
lived on her own income since the day she graduated fro
college, and she does know how to sew.
RYAN: She does petitpoint or some damn thing like that.
And not well! I still don’t know whether that thing she
did for us is supposed to be fish or an owl, and neither
do you!
KATIE (laughing): It’s a mushroom. I made it when I was
fourteen.
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