orry, Anna. What
you tank you like for drink, eh?

ANNA--[Promptly.] I'll take a--[Then suddenly reminded--confusedly.] I
don't know. What'a they got here?

CHRIS--[With a grin.] Ay don't tank dey got much fancy drink for young
gel in dis place, Anna. Yinger ale--sas'prilla, maybe.

ANNA--[Forcing a laugh herself.] Make it sas, then.

CHRIS--[Coming up to her--with a wink.] Ay tal you, Anna, we calabrate,
yes--dis one time because we meet after many year. [In a half whisper,
embarrassedly.] Dey gat good port wine, Anna. It's good for you. Ay
tank--little bit--for give you appetite. It ain't strong, neider. One
glass don't go to your head, Ay promise.

ANNA--[With a half hysterical laugh.] All right! I'll take port.

CHRIS--Ay go gat him. [He goes out to the bar. As soon as the door
closes, Anna starts to her feet.]

ANNA--[Picking up her bag--half--aloud--stammeringly.] Gawd, I can't
stand this! I better beat it. [Then she lets her bag drop, stumbles
over to her chair again, and covering her face with her hands, begins
to sob.]

LARRY--[Putting down his paper as CHRIS comes up--with a grin.] Well,
who's the blond?

CHRIS--[Proudly.] Dat vas Anna, Larry.

LARRY--[In amazement.] Your daughter, Anna? [CHRIS nods. LARRY lets a
long, low whistle escape him and turns away embarrassedly.]

CHRIS--Don't you tank she vas pooty gel, Larry?

LARRY--[Rising to the occasion.] Sure! A peach!

CHRIS--You bet you! Give me drink for take back--one port vine for
Anna--she calabrate dis one time with me--and small beer for me.

LARRY--[As he gets the drinks.] Small beer for you, eh? She's reformin'
you already.

CHRIS--[Pleased.] You bet! [He takes the drinks. As she hears him
coming, ANNA hastily dries her eyes, tries to smile. CHRIS comes in and
sets the drinks down on the table--stares at her for a second
anxiously--patting her hand.] You look tired, Anna. Veil, Ay make you
take good long rest now. [Picking up his beer.] Come, you drink vine.
It put new life in you. [She lifts her glass--he grins.] Skoal, Anna!
You know dat Svedish word?

ANNA--Skoal! [Downing her port at a gulp like a drink of whiskey--her
lips trembling.] Skoal? Guess I know that word, all right, all right!

[The Curtain Falls]

Act II

SCENE--Ten days later. The stern of the deeply-laden barge, "SIMEON
WINTHROP," at anchor in the outer harbor of Provincetown, Mass. It is
ten o'clock at night. Dense fog shrouds the barge on all side