PADDY--[With jovial defiance.] To the divil wid it! I'll not
report this watch. Let thim log me and be damned. I'm no slave the
like of you. I'll be sittin' here at me ease, and drinking, and
thinking, and dreaming dreams.

YANK--[Contemptuously.] Tinkin' and dreamin', what'll that get
yuh? What's tinkin' got to do wit it? We move, don't we? Speed,
ain't it? Fog, dat's all you stand for. But we drive trou dat,
don't we? We split dat up and smash trou--twenty-five knots a
hour! [Turns his back on Paddy scornfully.] Aw, yuh make me sick!
Yuh don't belong! [He strides out the door in rear. Paddy hums to
himself, blinking drowsily.]

[Curtain]





SCENE II


SCENE--Two days out. A section of the promenade deck. MILDRED
DOUGLAS and her aunt are discovered reclining in deck chairs. The
former is a girl of twenty, slender, delicate, with a pale, pretty
face marred by a self-conscious expression of disdainful
superiority. She looks fretful, nervous and discontented, bored by
her own anemia. Her aunt is a pompous and proud--and fat--old
lady. She is a type even to the point of a double chin and
lorgnettes. She is dressed pretentiously, as if afraid her face