Captain Arthur Keller:
Miss Sullivan, I find it difficult to talk through those glasses. Why do you wear them? The sun's been down over an hour.
Annie Sullivan:
Any kind of light hurts my eyes.
Captain Arthur Keller:
Well, put them on, Miss Sullivan. I've decided to give you a second chance.
Annie Sullivan:
To do what?
Captain Arthur Keller:
To remain our employee! But on two conditions! I'm not accustomed to rudeness! If you want to stay, there must be a radical change of manner!
Annie Sullivan:
Whose?
Captain Arthur Keller:
Yours, young lady! Isn't it obvious? You must convice me that there's the slightest hope of you teaching a child who now flees from you like the plague.
Annie Sullivan:
There isn't. It's hopeless here.
Captain Arthur Keller:
Am I to understand...
Annie Sullivan:
We all agree it's hopeless here. The next question is...
Kate Keller:
Miss Annie, I'm not agreed! She did fold her napkin. She learns. She learns! Did you know she began talking when she was only six months old? She could say water. Well, not really. Wah-wah. But she meant water! She knew what it meant at only six months old! I never saw a child so bright or outgoing! It's still in her, somewhere. Miss Annie, put up with her and with us.
Captain Arthur Keller:
Us?
Kate Keller:
Please. Like the lost lamb in the parable, I love her all the more.
Annie Sullivan:
Mrs. Keller, I don't think Helen's greatest handicap is deafness or blindness. I think it's your love and pity. All these years you've felt so sorry for her you've kept her like a pet. Well, even a dog you housebreak.
