Interior of SABRE’S CABIN, looking across the MAP TABLE to the DOOR, with the WEATHER MAP spread out and held down with a couple of pieces of bric-a-brac.
1. DRAKE/door: …for four days, now, and you’ve yet to see fit to share where
you’re taking us.
Stet, but SABRE is entering, DRAKE following. He truly is reaching the end of his patience.
SABRE is her merry self.
2. SABRE: I gave you ample opportunity to depart, Marshal.
3. SABRE: You and your deputy insisted on coming along.
New angle, SABRE is moving through the Cabin, tying her hair back as she goes. She’s still grinning.
DRAKE is close behind her.
4. DRAKE: In pursuit of a murderer and a villain.
5. SABRE: Oh, was that the reason?
SABRE has turned abruptly, so she and DRAKE are face-to-face. It’s rather intimately close.
She’s giving him a look that would turn most folk’s knees to water, though if Drake’s knees are going gooey, he is -as always – doing an admirable job of concealing this.
1. SABRE: I thought it was my irresistible charm.
2. DRAKE: I’m resisting.
Stet. SABRE grins.
3. SABRE: Well, give it time.