that's weak give up. But much good it did anyone! 'Twas a mad,
fightin' scramble in the last seconds with each man for himself. I
disremember how it come about, but there was the four of us in wan boat
and when we was raised high on a great wave I took a look about and
divil a sight there was of ship or men on top of the sea.

ANNA--[In a subdued voice.] Then all the others was drowned?

BURKE--They was, surely.

ANNA--[With a shudder.] What a terrible end!

BURKE--[Turns to her.] A terrible end for the like of them swabs does
live on land, maybe. But for the like of us does be roaming the seas, a
good end, I'm telling you--quick and clane.

ANNA--[Struck by the word.] Yes, clean. That's yust the word for--all
of it--the way it makes me feel.

BURKE--The sea, you mean? [Interestedly.] I'm thinking you have a bit
of it in your blood, too. Your Old Man wasn't only a barge rat--begging
your pardon--all his life, by the cut of him.

ANNA--No, he was bo'sun on sailing ships for years. And all the men on
both sides of the family have gone to sea as far back as he remembers,
he says. All the women have married sailors, too.

BURKE--[With intense satisfaction.] Did they, now? They had spirit in
them. It's only on the sea you'd find rale men with guts is fit to wed
with fine, high-tempered girls [Then he adds half-boldly] the like of
yourself.

ANNA--[With a laugh.] There you go kiddin' again. [Then seeing his hurt
expression--quickly.] But you was going to tell me about yourself.
You're Irish, of course I can tell that.

BURKE--[Stoutly.] Yes, thank God, though I've not seen a sight of it in
fifteen years or more.

ANNA--[Thoughtfully.] Sailors never do go home hardly, do they? That's
what my father was saying.

BURKE--He wasn't telling no lie. [With sudden melancholy.] It's a hard
and lonesome life, the sea is. The only women you'd meet in the ports
of the world who'd be willing to speak you a kind word isn't woman at
all. You know the kind I mane, and they're a poor, wicked lot, God
forgive them. They're looking to steal the money from you only.

ANNA--[Her face averted--rising to her feet--agitatedly.] I think--I
guess I'd better see what's doing inside.

BURKE--[Afraid he has offended her--beseechingly.] Don't go, I'm
saying! Is it I've given you offence with my talk of the like of them?
Don't heed it at all! I'm clumsy in my wits when it comes to talking
proper with a girl the like of you. And why wouldn't