Sam McCord:
George, a wonderful thing about Alaska is that matrimony hasn't hit up here yet. Let's keep it a free country!
Sam McCord:
Ahh, women! I never met one yet that was half as reliable as a horse!
Sam McCord:
Women. Peculiar.
Sam McCord:
You even sound like a wife.
Michelle:
I do not consider that a compliment.
Sam McCord:
I'm on your side, lady. It's my only politics... anti-wife. Any woman who devotes herself to making one man miserable instead of a lot of men happy don't get my vote.
Billy Pratt:
[
George is carrying three fresh bottles of champagne to Jenny's cabin] Now see what you did?
Sam McCord:
[
sarcasticly] Well what did I did?
Billy Pratt:
You have Michelle so confused that she don't know what she's doing, and now George is over there with my girl!
Sam McCord:
[
disgusted] Ohhhhhh!
Sam McCord:
Well, I'm savin' a life, that's all I know.
Michelle:
Maybe, but you don't make any sense at all! Which is all right, because if you're too drunk to talk, we'll find something else to do.
Sam McCord:
That's perfect. You even sound like a wife!
Michelle:
I do not consider that a compliment!
Sam McCord:
I'm on your side, lady! It's my only politics: anti-wife! Any woman who devotes herself to making one man miserable instead of a lot of men happy don't get my vote.
Sam McCord:
This is my old friend Lena Nordquist.
Michelle:
How do you do, Mrs Nordquist?
Sam McCord:
Well, come on, come on! There's nothing to fear. She's half-human.
Michelle:
[
Sam enters the cabin and picks up his revolver belt] Is he that mad?
Sam McCord:
He's not even here! Over at another mine, fighting some claim-jumpers. One good thing about that, them shootin' at him will take George's mind off Jenny.
Michelle:
Yes. A bullet through the head is always the best cure for love.
Michelle:
Are you going to leave me here alone?
Sam McCord:
Make yourself at home. Billy's here.
Michelle:
Who's Billy?
Sam McCord:
George's little kid brother.
Michelle:
How little?
Sam McCord:
Seventeen. But he's man enough to take care of you!
Michelle:
That's what I'm afraid of!
Billy Pratt:
[
sniffing Michelle's neck after she seats her at the table] Oh, golly, you smell good!
Michelle:
Thank you. Whatever you're cooking smells good, too.
Billy Pratt:
I'd rather smell you.
Michelle:
Uhm... Shall we dine?
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