George looked up from shoeing the horse to see the outline of Curley's wife in the doorway of the barn. They were alone. George snapped, "What're you doing here? You're about as welcome as a bull in a china shop round here."

                    "I just came by to talk a bit, I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go," she explained.
       
                    "I got somewhere you oughtta go. How 'bout you go home before Curley finds ya here?" George challenged.

                    "Please," she said scornfully. "That man's got a face only a mother could love."

                    "Yeah well beggars can't be choosers," he spat. "I heard you were piss-poor before you married Curley. You oughtta be grateful."

                    "Yeah well I'm done playing second fiddle to Curley's life all the time," she said sadly. "It ain't no fun being married to someone you don't love."

                    "Listen, you're the apple of his eye." George said softly. "He loves you more than life itself. Cant't you just grin and bear it?"

                    "I suppose," she admitted, defeated. " I just always dreamed of marrying the one, not some rich scumbag."

                    "Well look, I'm gonna hit the sack," George said in between his yawns.

                    "Okay but don't you go telling about this," she warned. "other wise you're gonna bite the dust."