in the country! I wish you could have seen the little home
in the country where you had me in jail till I was sixteen! [With
rising irritation.] Some day you're going to get me so mad with that
talk, I'm going to turn loose on you and tell you--a lot of things
that'll open your eyes.

CHRIS--[Alarmed.] Ay don't vant--

ANNA--I know you don't; but you keep on talking yust the same.

CHRIS--Ay don't talk no more den, Anna.

ANNA--Then promise me you'll cut out saying nasty things about Mat
Burke every chance you get.

CHRIS--[Evasive and suspicious.] Vhy? You like dat fallar--very much,
Anna?

ANNA--Yes, I certainly do! He's a regular man, no matter what faults
he's got. One of his fingers is worth all the hundreds of men I met out
there--inland.

CHRIS--[His face darkening.] Maybe you tank you love him, den?

ANNA--[Defiantly.] What of it if I do?

CHRIS--[Scowling and forcing out the words.] Maybe--you tank you--marry
him?

ANNA--[Shaking her head.] No! [CHRIS' face lights up with relief. ANNA
continues slowly, a trace of sadness in her voice.] If I'd met him four
years ago--or even two years ago--I'd have jumped at the chance, I tell
you that straight. And I would now--only he's such a simple guy--a big
kid--and I ain't got the heart to fool him. [She breaks off suddenly.]
But don't never say again he ain't good enough for me. It's me ain't
good enough for him.

CHRIS--[Snorts scornfully.] Py yiminy, you go crazy, Ay tank!

ANNA--[With a mournful laugh.] Well, I been thinking I was myself the
last few days. [She goes and takes a shawl from a hook near the door
and throws it over her shoulders.] Guess I'll take a walk down to the
end of the dock for a minute and see what's doing. I love to watch the
ships passing. Mat'll be along before long, I guess. Tell him where I
am, will you?

CHRIS--[Despondently.] All right, Ay tal him. [ANNA goes out the
doorway on rear. CHRIS follows her out and stands on the deck outside
for a moment looking after her. Then he comes back inside and shuts the
door. He stands looking out of the window--mutters--"Dirty die davil,
you." Then he goes to the table, sets the cloth straight mechanically,
picks up the newspaper ANNA has let fall to the floor and sits down in
the rocking-chair. He stares at the paper for a while, then puts it on
table, holds his head in his hands and sighs drearily. The noise of a
man's heavy footsteps comes from the deck outside and there is a loud
k