Mar. You, not we. My hero. Peter. We, Margaret, we. I'm no hero. I owe it all to you. Mar. (_rising_). You owe it to yourself. Peter. You inspired me. You helped me on. You kept me at it when my courage failed. When I wanted to slack you came and worked with me. It was your idea from the first. Mar. My idea but your deed. Peter (_sitting centre, behind table_). I've had dreams of this. Dreams of success. I never thought it would come. It was there on the horizon--a far-off nebulous dream. Mar. (_standing right_). It's a reality to-day. Peter. Yes. It's a reality to day. I've done the task you set me. I've proved my class as good as theirs. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? Mar. I wanted you to win, Peter. Peter. I've won because you wanted it, because after I won I knew that you---- (_Rising._) Has it been wearisome to wait, Margaret? I had the work, lectures, study. You had the tedious clays of teaching idiotic middle-class facts to idiotic middle-class children, and evenings when you ought to have had me and didn't because I couldn't lose a single precious moment's chance of study. Mar. That's clean forgotten. To-night is worth it all. Peter. To-night, and the future, Margaret. Mar. (_solemnly_). Yes, the future, Peter. Peter. This night was always in my dreams. The night when I should come to you and say, Margaret Shawcross, this have I done for you, because you wanted it. Was it well done, Margaret? Mar. Nobly done. Peter. And the labourer is worthy of his hire? I ask for my reward. Mar. (_shaking her head_). I can give you no reward that's big enough. Peter. You can give the greatest prize on earth. We ought to have been married long ago. I've kept you waiting. Mar. That had to be. They won't have married women teachers at the Midlandton High School. I couldn't burden you until this fight was fought. Peter. And now, Margaret? Mar. Now I'm ready--if---- Peter. More if's? Mar. A very little one. If you've money to keep us three. No going short for mother. Peter. You trust me, don't you? Mar. (_giving hand_). Yes, Peter, I trust you. Peter (_bursting with thoughts_). There's my journalism. This degree _'_ull give me a lift at that. I shall get lecture engagements too. Mar. (_alarmed_). Peter, you didn't do it for that! Peter. I did it for you. But I mean to enjoy the fruits of all this work. Public speaking's always been a joy to me. You don't know the glorious sensation of holding a crowd in the hollow of your hand, mastering it, doing what you like with it. Mar. (_sadly_). I hoped you'd given up speaking. Peter. I haven't spoken lately because I'd other things to do. I haven't given it up. Mar. You did too much before. Peter. You don't know the fascination of the thing. Mar. (_bracing herself for a tussle_). I know the fascination's fatal. I saw it growing on you--this desire to speak, to be the master of a mob. I hoped I'd cured you of it. Peter. Cured me? Mar. I thought I'd given you a higher aim.