All his mad notions
will be gone. But that other is quite sensible. And you mustn't quarrel
over it.
(_Moves up to back of stage. Harry follows a little behind, away from
audience_.)
Harry's Voice (_Calm_). Let's hear what it is.
(_Voices cease. Action visible as before. Harry steps back and walks
hastily down. Bessie at his elbow, follows with her hands clasped?_)
(_Loud burst of voice._)
Harry (_Raving to and fro_). No! Expects me--a home. Who wants his
home?... What I want is hard work, or an all-fired racket, or more room
than there is in the whole of England. Expects me! A man like me--for
his rotten money--there ain't enough money in the world to turn me into
a blamed tame rabbit in a hutch. (_He stops suddenly before Bessie, arms
crossed on breast. Violently_.) Don't you see it?
Bessie (_Terrified, stammering faintly_). Yes. Yes. Don't look at me
like this. (_Sudden scream_.) Don't quarrel with him. He's mad!
Harry (_Headlong utterance_). Mad! Not he. He likes his own way. Tie me
up by the neck here. Here! Ha! Ha! Ha! (_Louder_.) And the whole
world is not a bit too big for me to spread my elbows in, I can tell
you--what's your name--Bessie. (_Rising scorn_). Marry! Wants me to
marry and settle.... (_Scathingly_.) And as likely as not he has looked
out the girl too--dash my soul. Talked to you about it--did he? And do
you happen to know the Judy--may I ask?
(_Window in Hagberd's cottage runs up.
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