LARRY—Sure—and another tramp with her. [CHRIS starts for the entrance to the back room.]
MARTHY—[To ANNA in a hurried, nervous whisper.] That's him now. He's comin' in here. Brace up!
ANNA—Who? [Chris opens the door.]
MARTHY—[As if she were greeting him for the first time]. Why hello, Old Chris. [Then before he can speak, she shuffles hurriedly past him into the bar, beckoning him to follow her.] Come here. I wanta tell yuh somethin'. [He goes out to her. She speaks hurriedly in a low voice.] Listen! I'm goin' to beat it down to the barge—pack up me duds and blow. That's her in there—your Anna—just come—waitin' for yuh. Treat her right, see? She's been sick. Well, s'long! [She goes into the back room—to ANNA.] S'long, kid. I gotta beat it now. See yuh later.
ANNA—[Nervously.] So long. [MARTHY goes quickly out of the family entrance.] LARRY—[Looking at the stupefied CHRIS curiously.] Well, what's up now?
CHRIS—[Vaguely.] Nutting—nutting. [He stands before the door to the back room in an agony of embarrassed emotion—then he forces himself to a bold decision, pushes open the door and walks in. He stands there, casts a shy glance at ANNA, whose brilliant clothes, and, to him, high-toned appearance awe him terribly. He looks about him with pitiful nervousness as if to avoid the appraising look with which she takes in his face, his clothes, etc—his voice seeming to plead for her forbearance.] Anna!
ANNA—[Acutely embarrassed in her turn.] Hello—father. She told me it was you. I yust got here a little while ago.
CHRIS—[Goes slowly over to her chair.] It's good—for see you—after all dem years, Anna. [He bends down over her. After an embarrassed struggle they manage to kiss each other.]
ANNA—[A trace of genuine feeling in her voice.] It's good to see you, too.
CHRIS—[Grasps her arms and looks into her face—then overcome by a wave of fierce tenderness.] Anna lilla! Anna lilla! [Takes her in his arms.]