wild from sleeplessness. The muscles of his arms and shoulders are
lumped in knots and bunches, the veins of his forearms stand out
like blue cords. He finds his way to the coil of hawser and sits
down on it facing the cabin, his back bowed, head in his hands, in
an attitude of spent weariness.]

BURKE--[Talking aloud to himself.] Row, ye divil! Row! [Then
lifting his head and looking about him.] What's this tub? Well,
we're safe anyway--with the help of God. [He makes the sign of the
cross mechanically. JOHNSON comes along the deck to port,
supporting the fourth man, who is babbling to himself
incoherently. BURKE glances at him disdainfully.] Is it losing the
small wits ye iver had, ye are? Deck-scrubbing scut! [They pass
him and go into the cabin, leaving the door open. BURKE sags
forward wearily.] I'm bate out--bate out entirely.

ANNA--[Comes out of the cabin with a tumbler quarter-full of
whiskey in her hand. She gives a start when she sees BURKE so near
her, the light from the open door falling full on him. Then,
overcoming what is evidently a feeling of repulsion, she comes up
beside him.] Here you are. Here's a drink for you. You need it, I
guess.

BURKE--[Lifting his head slowly--confusedly.] Is it dreaming I am?

ANNA--[Half smiling.] Drink it and you'll find it ain't no dream.

BURKE--To hell with the drink--but I'll take it just the same. [He
tosses it down.] Aah! I'm needin' that--and 'tis fine stuff.
[Looking up at her with frank, grinning admiration.] But 'twasn't