Harry. Stubborn. Eh? The old man hasn't changed much from what I can
remember. (_They stand looking at each other helplessly_.)

Bessie. He's made up his mind you would come back . . . to-morrow.

Harry. I can't hang about here till morning. Got no money to get a bed.
Not a cent. But why won't to-day do?

Bessie. Because you've been too long away.

Harry (_With force_). Look here, they fairly drove me out. Poor mother
nagged at me for being idle, and the old man said he would cut my soul
out of my body rather than let me go to sea.

Bessie (_Murmurs_). He can bear no contradicting.

Harry (_Continuing_). Well, it looked as tho' he would do it too. So
I went. (_Moody_.) It seems to me sometimes I was born to them by a
mistake... in that other rabbit hutch of a house.

Bessie (_A little mocking_). And where do you think you ought to have
been born by rights?

Harry. In the open--upon a beach--on a windy night.

Bessie (_Faintly_). Ah!

Harry. They were characters, both of them, by George! Shall I try the
door?