BURKE—I'll not! [Then fearfully.] Is it married to someone else you are—in the West maybe?
ANNA—[Vehemently.] I should say not.
BURKE—[Regaining his courage.] To the divil with all other reasons then. They don't matter with me at all. [He gets to his feet confidently, assuming a masterful tone.] I'm thinking you're the like of them women can't make up their mind till they're drove to it. Well, then, I'll make up your mind for you bloody quick. [He takes her by the arms, grinning to soften his serious bullying.] We've had enough of talk! Let you be going into your room now and be dressing in your best and we'll be going ashore.
CHRIS—[Aroused—angrily.] No, py God, she don't do that! [Takes hold of her arm.]
ANNA—[Who has listened to BURKE in astonishment. She draws away from him, instinctively repelled by his tone, but not exactly sure if he is serious or not—a trace of resentment in her voice.] Say, where do you get that stuff?
BURKE—[Imperiously.] Never mind, now! Let you go get dressed, I'm saying, [Then turning to CHRIS.] We'll be seeing who'll win in the end—me or you.
CHRIS—[To ANNA—also in an authoritative tone.] You stay right here, Anna, you hear! [ANNA stands looking from one to the other of them as if she thought they had both gone crazy. Then the expression of her face freezes into the hardened sneer of her experience.]
BURKE—[Violently.] She'll not! She'll do what I say! You've had your hold on her long enough. It's my turn now.
ANNA—[With a hard laugh.] Your turn? Say, what am I, anyway?
BURKE—'Tis not what you are, 'tis what you're going to be this day—and that's wedded to me before night comes. Hurry up now with your dressing.