ANNA—[Impatiently.] I don't care what he looks like. What kind is he?
MARTHY—[Earnestly.] Well, yuh can bet your life, kid, he's as good an old guy as ever walked on two feet. That goes!
ANNA—[Pleased.] I'm glad to hear it. Then you think's he'll stake me to that rest cure I'm after?
MARTHY—[Emphatically.] Surest thing you know. [Disgustedly.] But where'd yuh get the idea he was a janitor?
ANNA—He wrote me he was himself.
MARTHY—Well, he was lyin'. He ain't. He's captain of a barge—five men under him.
ANNA—[Disgusted in her turn.] A barge? What kind of a barge?
MARTHY—Coal, mostly.
ANNA—A coal barge! [With a harsh laugh.] If that ain't a swell job to find your long lost Old Man working at! Gee, I knew something'd be bound to turn out wrong—always does with me. That puts my idea of his giving me a rest on the bum.
MARTHY—What d'yuh mean?