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 sc.r.a.ped 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 sc.r.a.ping 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 of himself, tho'. Blind three days.

(_Serious_.) Don't think I am given that way. Nothing and n.o.body can get over me unless I like. I can be as steady as a rock.

Bessie (_Murmurs_). Oh! I don't think you are bad.

Harry (_Approvingly_). You're right there. (_Impulsive_.) Ask the girls all over-------(_Checks himself_.) Ginger, he's long-headed, too, in his way--mind you. He sees the paper this morning, and says he to me, 'Hallo! Look at that, Harry--loving parent--that's five quid, sure.' So we sc.r.a.ped all our pockets for the fare....

Bessie (_Unbelieving_). You came here for that.

Harry (_Surprised_). What else would I want here? Five quid isn't much to ask for--once in sixteen years. (_Through his teeth with a sidelong look at B._) And now I am ready to go--for my fare.

Bessie (_Clasping her hands_). Whoever heard a man talk like this before! I can't believe you mean it?

Harry. What? That I would go? You just try and see.

Bessie (_Disregarding him_). Don't you care for anyone? Didn't you ever want anyone in the world to care for you?

Harry. In the world! (_Boastful_.) There's hardly a place you can go in the world where you wouldn't find somebody that did care for Harry Hagberd. (_Pause_.) I'm not of the sort that go about skulking under false names.

Bessie. Somebody--that means a woman.

Harry. Well! And if it did.

Bessie (_Unsteadily_). Oh, I see how it is. You get round them with your soft speeches, your promises, and then...

Harry (_Violently_). Never!

Bessie (_Startled, steps back_). Ah--you never. . .

Harry (_Calm_). Never yet told a lie to a woman.

Bessie. What lie?

Harry. Why, the lie that comes glib to a man's tongue. None of that for me. I leave the sneaking off to them soft-spoken chaps you're thinking of. No! If you love me you take me. And if you take me--why, then, the capstan-song of deep-water ships is sure to settle it all some fine day.

Bessie (_After a short pause, with effort_). It's like your ships, then.

Harry (_Amused_). Exactly, up to now. Or else I wouldn't be here in a silly fix.

Bessie (_a.s.sumed indifference_). Perhaps it's because you've never yet met------- (_Voice fails_.)

Harry (_Negligently_). Maybe. And perhaps never shall.... What's the odds? It's the looking for a thing.... No matter. I love them all--ships and women. The sc.r.a.pes they got me into, and the sc.r.a.pes they got me out of--my word! I say, Miss Bessie, what are you thinking of?

Bessie (_Lifts her head_). That you are supposed never to tell a lie.

Harry. Never, eh? You wouldn't be that hard on a chap.

Bessie (_Recklessly_). Never to a woman, I mean.

Harry. Well, no. (_Serious_.) Never anything that matters. (_Aside_.) I don't seem to get any nearer to my railway fare. (_Leans wearily against the lamppost with a far-off look. B. looks at him_.)

Bessie. Now what are _you_ thinking of?

Harry (_Turns his head; stares at B_.). Well, I was thinking what a fine figure of a girl you are.

Bessie (_Looks away a moment_). Is that true, or is it only one of them that don't matter?

Harry (_Laughing a little_). No! no! That's true. Haven't you ever been told that before? The men...