.

ANNA--[The memory of having heard that name a little while before
coming to her--with a start, confusedly.] Cape Town? Where's that. Far
away?

BURKE--'Tis at the end of Africa. That's far for you.

ANNA--[Forcing a laugh.] You're keeping your word all right, ain't you?
[After a slight pause--curiously.] What's the boat's name?

BURKE--The Londonderry.

ANNA--[It suddenly comes to her that this is the same ship her father
is sailing on.] The Londonderry! It's the same--Oh, this is too much!
[With wild, ironical laughter.] Ha-ha-ha!

BURKE--What's up with you now?

ANNA--Ha-ha-ha! It's funny, funny! I'll die laughing!

BURKE--[Irritated.] Laughing at what?

ANNA--It's a secret. You'll know soon enough. It's funny. [Controlling
herself--after a pause--cynically.] What kind of a place is this Cape
Town? Plenty of dames there, I suppose?

BURKE--To hell with them! That I may never see another woman to my
dying hour!

ANNA--That's what you say now, but I'll bet by the time you get there
you'll have forgot all about me and start in talking the same old bull
you talked to me to the first one you meet.

BURKE--[Offended.] I'll not, then! God mend you, is it making me out to
be the like of yourself you are, and you taking up with this one and
that all the years of your life?

ANNA--[Angrily assertive.] Yes, that's yust what I do mean! You been
doing the same thing all your life, picking up a new girl in every
port. How're you any better than I was?

BURKE--[Thoroughly exasperated.] Is it no shame you have at all? I'm a
fool to be wasting talk on you and you hardened in badness. I'll go out
of this and lave you alone forever. [He starts for the door--then stops
to turn on her furiously] And I suppose 'tis the same lies you told
them all before that you told to me?

ANNA--[Indignantly.] That's a lie! I never did!

BURKE--[Miserably.] You'd be saying that, anyway.

ANNA--[Forcibly, with growing intensity.] Are you trying to accuse
me--of being in love--really in love--with them?

BURKE--I'm thinking you were, surely.

ANNA--[Furiously, as if this were the last insult--advancing on him
threateningly] You mutt, you! I've stood enough from you. Don't you
dare. [With scornful bitterness.] Love 'em! Oh, my Gawd! You damn
thick-head! Love 'em? [Savagely.] I hated 'em, I tell you! Hated 'em,
hated 'em, hated 'em! And may Gawd strike me dead this minute and my
mother, too, if she was alive, if I ain't telling yo