Bessie. You like my name! I wonder you remembered it.... That's why, I
suppose.

Harry (_Slight swagger in voice_). What's the odds! As long as a fellow
has lived. And a voyage isn't a marriage--as we sailors say.

Bessie. So you're not married--(_Movement of Harry_)--to any ship.

Harry (_Soft laugh_). Ship! I've loved and left more of them than I can
remember. I've been nearly everything you can think of but a tinker or
a soldier; I've been a boundary rider; I've sheared sheep and humped my
swag and harpooned a whale; I've rigged ships and skinned dead bullocks
and prospected for gold--and turned my back on more money than the old
man would have scraped together in his whole life.

Bessie (_Thoughtfully_). I could talk him over in a week.. . .

Harry (_Negligently_). I dare say you could. (_Joking_.) I don't know
but what I could make shift to wait if you only promise to talk to
me now and then. I've grown quite fond of your voice. I like a right
woman's voice.

Bessie (_Averted head_). Quite fond! (_Sharply_.) Talk! Nonsense! Much
you'd care. (_Businesslike_.) Of course I would have to sometimes....
(_Thoughtful again_.) Yes. In a week--if--if only I knew you would try
to get on with him afterwards.

Harry (_Leaning against lamp-post; growls through his teeth_). More
humouring. Ah! well, no! (_Hums significantly_)