LADY UTTERWORD [appearing at the port garden door, in a handsome dinner dress]. Is anything the matter?
ELLIE. This gentleman wants to know is he never to have the last word?
LADY UTTERWORD [coming forward to the sofa]. I should let him have it, my dear. The important thing is not to have the last word, but to have your own way.
MANGAN. She wants both.
LADY UTTERWORD. She won't get them, Mr Mangan. Providence always has the last word.
MANGAN [desperately]. Now you are going to come religion over me. In this house a man's mind might as well be a football. I'm going. [He makes for the hall, but is stopped by a hail from the Captain, who has just emerged from his pantry].
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Whither away, Boss Mangan?
MANGAN. To hell out of this house: let that be enough for you and all here.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You were welcome to come: you are free to go. The wide earth, the high seas, the spacious skies are waiting for you outside.
LADY UTTERWORD. But your things, Mr Mangan. Your bag, your comb and brushes, your pyjamas—