compelled.)

Harry (Bending forward gallantly). A little pale. It suits some. (Puts out his hand, catches hold of B.'s arm. Draws her to him.) Let's see.... Yes, it suits you. (It's a moment before B. puts up her hands, palms out, and turns away her head.)

Bessie (Whispering). Don't. (Struggles a little. Released, stands averted.)

Harry. No offence. (Stands, back to audience, looking at H.'s cottage.)

Bessie (Alone in front; faces audience; whispers). My voice—my figure—my heart—my face....

(A silence. B. 's face gradually lights up. Directly H. speaks, expression of hopeful attention.)

Harry (From railings). The old man seems to have gone to sleep waiting for that to-morrow of his.

Bessie. Come away. He sleeps very little.

Harry (Strolls down). He has taken an everlasting jamming hitch round the whole business. (Vexed.) Cast it loose who may. (Contemptuous exclamation.) To-morrow. Pooh! It'll be just another mad today.

Bessie. It's the brooding over his hope that's done it. People teased him so. It's his fondness for you that's troubled his mind.

Harry. Aye. A confounded shovel on the head. The old man had always a queer way of showing his fondness for me.

Bessie. A hopeful, troubled, expecting old man—left alone—all alone.

Harry (Lower tone). Did he ever tell you what mother died of?

Bessie. Yes. (A little bitter.) From impatience.

Harry (Makes a gesture with his arm; speaks vaguely but with feeling). I believe you have been very good to my old man....

Bessie (Tentative). Wouldn't you try to be a son to him?

Harry (Angrily). No contradicting; is that it? You seem to know my dad pretty well. And so do I. He's dead nuts on having his own way—and I've been used to have my own too long. It's the deuce of a fix.

Bessie. How could it hurt you not to contradict him for a while—and perhaps in time you would get used. ..

Harry (Interrupts sulkily). I ain't accustomed to knuckle under. There's a pair of us. Hagberd's both. I ought to be thinking of my train.

Bessie (Earnestly). Why? There's no need. Let us get away up the road a little.

Harry (Through his teeth). And no money for the fare. (Looks up.) Sky's come overcast. Black, too. It'll be a wild, windy night... to walk the high road on. But I and wild nights are old friends wherever the free wind blows.

Bessie (Entreating). No need. No need. (Looks apprehensively at Hagberd's cottage. Takes a couple of steps up as if to draw Harry further off. Harry follows. Both stop.)

Harry (After waiting). What about this tomorrow whim?

Bessie. Leave that to me. Of course all his fancies are not mad. They aren't. (Pause.) Most people in this town would think what he had set his mind on quite sensible. If he ever talks to you of it, don't contradict him. It would—it would be dangerous.

Harry (Surprised). What would he do?

Bessie. He would—I don't know—something rash.

Harry (Startled). To himself?

Bessie. No. It'd be against you—I fear.

Harry (Sullen). Let him.

Bessie. Never. Don't quarrel. But perhaps he won't even try to talk to you of it. (Thinking aloud.) Who knows what I can do with him in a week! I can, I can, I can—I must.

Harry. Come—what's this sensible notion of his that I mustn't quarrel about?

Bessie (Turns to Harry, calm, forcible). If I make him once see that you've come back, he will be as sane as you or I. 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. They start and stand still.)

Capt. H. (Above, begins slowly). A grinning information fellow from a crazy town. (Voice changes.) Bessie, I see you. . . .

Bessie (Shrill). Captain Hagberd! Say nothing. You don't understand. For heaven's sake don't.

Capt. H. Send him away this minute, or I will tell Harry. They know nothing of Harry in this crazy town. Harry's coming home to-morrow. Do you hear? One day more!

(Silence.)

Harry (Mutters). Well!—he is a character.

Capt. H. (Chuckles softly). Never you fear! The boy shall marry you. (Sudden anger.) He'll have to. I'll make him. Or, if not—(Furious)—I'll cut him off with a shilling, and leave everything to you. Jackanapes! Let him starve!

(Window rumbles down.)

Harry (Slowly). So it's you—the girl. It's you! Now I begin to see.... By heavens, you have a heart as soft as your woman's voice.

Bessie (Half averted, face in hands). You see! Don't come near me.

Harry (Makes a step towards her). I must have another look at your pale face.

Bessie (Turns unexpectedly and pushes him with both hands; Harry staggers back and stands still; Bessie, fiercely). Go away.

Harry (Watching her). Directly. But women always had to get me out of my scrapes. I am a beggar now, and you must help me out of my scrape.

Bessie (Who at the word "beggar" had begun fumbling in the pocket of her dress, speaks wildly). Here it is. Take it. Don't look at me. Don't speak to me!

Harry (Swaggers up under the lamp; looks at coin in his palm). Half-a-quid. . .. My fare!

Bessie (Hands clenched). Why are you still here?

Harry. Well, you are a fine figure of a girl. My word. I've a good mind to stop—for a week.

Bessie (Pain and shame). Oh!.... What are you waiting for? If I had more money I would give it all, all. I would give everything I have to make you go—to make you forget you had ever heard my voice and seen my face. (Covers face with hands.)

Harry (Sombre, watches her). No fear! I haven't forgotten a single one of you in the world. Some've given me more than money. No matter. You can't buy me in—and you can't buy yourself out. . .

(Strides towards her. Seizes her arms. Short struggle. Bessie gives way. Hair falls loose. H. kisses her forehead, cheeks, lips, then releases her. Bessie staggers against railings.)

(Exit Harry; measured walk without haste)

Bessie (Staring eyes, hair loose, back against railings; calls out). Harry! (Gathers up her skirts and runs a little way) Come back, Harry. (Staggers forward against lamp-post) Harry! (Much lower) Harry! (In a