No such luck, tho', I suppose.
Bessie (_From distance_). Would that be luck? Harry. Yes! For them that
make the whole world their home.
Bessie (_Comes forward shyly_). The world's a cold home--they say.
Harry (_A little gloomy_). So it is. When a man's done for.
Bessie. You see! (_Taunting_). And a ship's not so very big after all.
Harry. No. But the sea is great. And then what of the ship! You love her
and leave her, Miss--Bessie's your name--isn't it?... I like that name.
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 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.
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