ANNA--[With a start--making a gesture with her hand as if to impose silence--in a hushed whisper.] Yes, here I am. What d'you want?

CHRIS--[Walks over to her--solicitously.] Don't you come turn in, Anna?

It's late--after four bells. It ain't good for you stay out here in fog, Ay tank.

ANNA--Why not? [With a trace of strange exultation.] I love this fog!

Honest! It's so--[She hesitates, groping for a word.]--Funny and still.

I feel as if I was--out of things altogether.

CHRIS--[Spitting disgustedly.] Fog's vorst one of her dirty tricks, py yingo!

ANNA--[With a short laugh.] Beefing about the sea again? I'm getting so's I love it, the little I've seen.

CHRIS--[Glancing at her moodily.] Dat's foolish talk, Anna. You see her more, you don't talk dat vay. [Then seeing her irritation, he hastily adopts a more cheerful tone.] But Ay'm glad you like it on barge. Ay'm glad it makes you feel good again. [With a placating grin.] You like live like dis alone with ole fa'der, eh?

ANNA--Sure I do. Everything's been so different from anything I ever come across before. And now--this fog--Gee, I wouldn't have missed it for nothing. I never thought living on ships was so different from land. Gee, I'd just love to work on it, honest I would, if I was a man.

I don't wonder you always been a sailor.

CHRIS--[Vehemently.] Ay ain't sailor, Anna. And dis ain't real sea. You only see nice part. [Then as she doesn't answer, he continues hopefully.] Vell, fog lift in morning, Ay tank.

ANNA--[The exultation again in her voice.] I love it! I don't give a rap if it never lifts! [CHRIS fidgets from one foot to the other worriedly. ANNA continues slowly, after a pause.] It makes me feel clean--out here--'s if I'd taken a bath.

CHRIS--[After a pause.] You better go in cabin--read book. Dat put you to sleep.

ANNA--I don't want to sleep. I want to stay out here--and think about things.

CHRIS--[Walks away from her toward the cabin--then comes back.] You act funny to-night, Anna.

ANNA--[Her voice rising angrily.] Say, what're you trying to do--make things rotten? You been kind as kind can be to me and I certainly appreciate it--only don't spoil it all now. [Then, seeing the hurt expression on her father's face, she forces a smile.] Let's talk of something else. Come. Sit down here. [She points to the coil of rope.]

CHRIS--[Sits down beside her with a sigh.] It's gatting pooty late in night, Anna. Must be near five bells.

ANNA--[Interestedly.] Five bells? What time is that?

CHRIS--Half past ten.

ANNA--Funny I don't know nothing about sea talk--but those cousins was always talking crops and that stuff. Gee, wasn't I sick of it--and of them!

CHRIS--You don't like live on farm, Anna?

ANNA--I've told you a hundred times I hated it. [Decidedly.] I'd rather have one drop of ocean than all the farms in the world! Honest! And you wouldn't like a farm, neither. Here's where you belong. [She makes a sweeping gesture seaward.] But not on a coal barge. You belong on a real ship, sailing all over the world.

CHRIS--[Moodily.] Ay've done dat many year, Anna, when Ay vas d.a.m.n fool.

ANNA--[Disgustedly.] Oh, rats! [After a pause she speaks musingly.] Was the men in our family always sailors--as far back as you know about?

CHRIS--[Shortly.] Yes. d.a.m.n fools! All men in our village on coast, Sveden, go to sea. Ain't nutting else for dem to do. My fa'der die on board ship in Indian Ocean. He's buried at sea. Ay don't never know him only little bit. Den my tree bro'der, older'n me, dey go on ships. Den Ay go, too. Den my mo'der she's left all 'lone. She die pooty quick after dat--all 'lone. Ve vas all avay on voyage when she die. [He pauses sadly.] Two my bro'der dey gat lost on fishing boat same like your bro'ders vas drowned. My oder bro'der, he save money, give up sea, den he die home in bed. He's only one dat ole davil don't kill.

[Defiantly.] But me, Ay bet you Ay die ash.o.r.e in bed, too!

ANNA--Were all of 'em yust plain sailors?

CHEIS--Able body seaman, most of dem. [With a certain pride.] Dey vas all smart seaman, too--A one. [Then after hesitating a moment--shyly.]

Ay vas bo'sun.

ANNA--Bo'sun?

CHRIS--Dat's kind of officer.

ANNA--Gee, that was fine. What does he do?

CHRIS--[After a second's hesitation, plunged into gloom again by his fear of her enthusiasm.] Hard vork all time. It's rotten, Ay tal you, for go to sea. [Determined to disgust her with sea life--volubly.]

Dey're all fool fallar, dem fallar in our family. Dey all vork rotten yob on sea for nutting, don't care nutting but yust gat big pay day in pocket, gat drunk, gat robbed, ship avay again on oder voyage. Dey don't come home, Dey don't do anytang like good man do. And dat ole davil, sea, sooner, later she svallow dem up.

ANNA--[With an excited laugh.] Good sports, I'd call 'em. [Then hastily.] But say--listen--did all the women of the family marry sailors?

CHRIS--[Eagerly--seeing a chance to drive home his point.] Yes--and it's bad on dem like h.e.l.l vorst of all. Dey don't see deir men only once in long while. Dey set and vait all 'lone. And vhen deir boys grows up, go to sea, dey sit and vait some more. [Vehemently.] Any gel marry sailor, she's crazy fool! Your mo'der she tal you same tang if she vas alive. [He relapses into an att.i.tude of somber brooding.]

ANNA--[After a pause--dreamily.] Funny! I do feel sort of--nutty, to-night. I feel old.

CHRIS--[Mystified. ] Old?

ANNA--Sure--like I'd been living a long, long time--out here in the fog. [Frowning perplexedly.] I don't know how to tell you yust what I mean. It's like I'd come home after a long visit away some place. It all seems like I'd been here before lots of times--on boats--in this same fog. [With a short laugh.] You must think I'm off my base.

CHRIS--[Gruffly.] Anybody feel funny dat vay in fog.

ANNA--[Persistently.] But why d'you s'pose I feel so--so--like I'd found something I'd missed and been looking for--'s if this was the right place for me to fit in? And I seem to have forgot--everything that's happened--like it didn't matter no more. And I feel clean, somehow--like you feel yust after you've took a bath. And I feel happy for once--yes, honest!--happier than I ever been anywhere before! [As CHRIS makes no comment but a heavy sigh, she continues wonderingly.]

It's nutty for me to feel that way, don't you think?

CHRIS--[A grim foreboding in his voice.] Ay tank Ay'm d.a.m.n fool for bring you on voyage, Anna.

ANNA--[Impressed by his tone.] You talk--nutty to-night yourself. You act's if you was scared something was going to happen.

CHRIS--Only G.o.d know dat, Anna.

ANNA--[Half-mockingly.] Then it'll be Gawd's will, like the preachers say-what does happen.

CHRIS--[Starts to his feet with fierce protest.] No! Dat ole davil, sea, she ain't G.o.d! [In the pause of silence that comes after his defiance a hail in a man's husky, exhausted voice comes faintly out of the fog to port.] "Ahoy!" [CHRIS gives a startled exclamation.]

ANNA--[Jumping to her feet.] What's that?

CHRIS--[Who has regained his composure--sheepishly.] Py golly, dat scare me for minute. It's only some fallar hail, Anna--loose his course in fog. Must be fisherman's power boat. His engine break down, Ay guess. [The "ahoy" comes again through the wall of fog, sounding much nearer this time. CHRIS goes over to the port bulwark.] Sound from dis side. She come in from open sea. [He holds his hands to his mouth, megaphone-fashion, and shouts back.] Ahoy, dere! Vhat's trouble?

THE VOICE--[This time sounding nearer but up forward toward the bow.]

Heave a rope when we come alongside. [Then irritably.] Where are ye, ye scut?

CHRIS--Ay hear dem rowing. Dey come up by bow, Ay tank. [Then shouting out again.] Dis vay!

THE VOICE--Right ye are! [There is a m.u.f.fled sound of oars in oar-locks.]

ANNA--[Half to herself--resentfully.] Why don't that guy stay where he belongs?