The Glass Menagerie, act 2 scene 7 Laura pleading Amanda

There was a Jim O’Connor we both knew in high school. If that is the one that Tom is bringing home to dinner—

Oh, Mother, you’d have to excuse me, I wouldn’t come to the table!

What's this now? What sort of silly talk is this?

I don’t know, Mother. All I know is that I couldn’t sit at the table if it was him.

It won’t be him! It isn’t the least bit likely.

But whether it is or not, you will come to the table—you will not be excused.

I’ll have to be, Mother.

I don’t intend to humor your silliness, Laura. I’ve had too much from you and your brother, both.

So just sit down and compose yourself till they come.

Tom has forgotten his key, so you’ll have to let them in when they arrive.

Oh, Mother—you answer the door!

How can I when I haven’t even finished making the mayonnaise dressing for the salmon?

Oh, Mother, please answer the door, don’t make me do it!

Honey, do be reasonable!

What’s all this fuss about—

just one gentleman caller—that’s all—just one!

Mother, please, you go to the door!

(offstage, in a fierce whisper) What is the matter with you, you silly thing?

Please you answer it, please.

Why have you chosen this moment to lose your mind? You go to that door.

I can’t.

Why can’t you?

Because I’m sick.

You’re sick! Am I sick? You and your brother have me puzzled to death. You can never act like normal children. Will you give me one good reason why you should be afraid to open a door? You go to that door. Laura Wingfield, you march straight to that door!