nder 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_)

Oh, oh, oh, Rio, . . .
And fare thee well
My bonnie young girl,
We're bound for Rio Grande.

Bessie (Shivering). What's this?

Harry. Why! The chorus of an up-anchor tune. Kiss and go. A deep-water
ship's good-bye.... You are cold. Here's that thing of yours I've
picked up and forgot there on my arm. Turn round a bit. So. (_Wraps her
up--commanding_.) Hold the ends together in front.

Bessie (_Softly_). A week is not so very long.

Harry (_Begins violently_). You think that I-------

(_Stops with sidelong look at her_.) I can't dodge about in ditches and
live on air and water. Can I? I haven't any money--you know.

Bessie. He's been scraping and saving up for years. All he has is for
you, and perhaps...

Harry (_Interrupts_). Yes. If I come to sit on it like a blamed toad in
a hole. Thank you.

Bessie (_Angrily_). What did you come for, then?

Harry (_Promptly_). For five quid--(_Pause_.)--after a jolly good spree.

Bessie (_Scathingly_). You and that--that--chum of yours have been
drinking.

Harry (_Laughs_). Don't fly out, Miss Bessie--dear. Ginger's not a
bad little chap. Can't take care