Betsy: She did washing for the sailormen.
Joe: Was she good to you?
Betsy: Oh yes. I think—I do not know—that she was not my mother.
Joe: And Darlin'?
Betsy: Yes. She has been good to me. And the others, too. I seem to remember someone else. How long have you been a pirate?
Joe: A pirate? Years, it seems, my dear. But I am more used to a soldier's oaths. I have trailed a pike in the Lowland wars. The roar of cannon, and siege and falling walls, are gayer tunes than any ocean tempest. What is this that you remember, Betsy?
Betsy: It is far off. Some one sang to me. It was not Nancy. When Nancy died, Darlin' took me and brought me up. That was three years ago. But last year the Captain and Duke and Patch-Eye came climbing up the rocks. They were sailormen, they said, who had lost a ship. And these cliffs with the sea pounding on the shore comforted them when they were lonely. So they stayed. And Darlin' and I cook for them.
Joe: Do you remember who it was who sang to you?
Betsy: No.
Joe: That song you just sang—where did you learn it?