Lydia Brenner: When do you think they'll come?
Mitch Brenner: I don't know.
Lydia Brenner: If they're bigger birds, Mitch, they'll get into the house.
Mitch Brenner: Well, it's just a chance we'll have to take.
Lydia Brenner: Maybe we ought to leave.
Mitch Brenner: No, not now. Not while they're massing out there.
Lydia Brenner: When?
Mitch Brenner: We'll just see what happens.
Lydia Brenner: Where will we go?
Mitch Brenner: I don't know. We're safe here for the time being...
Lydia Brenner: What happens when you run out of wood?
Mitch Brenner: I don't know. We'll break up the furniture.
Lydia Brenner: You don't know. You don't know. When will you know? When we're all dead? [Cathy bursts into tears] If only your father were here! [pause] I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mitch.
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