ANNA—[With a laugh of helpless bitterness.] So that's how you've fixed me, is it?
CHRIS—Yes, Ay tank if dat ole davil gat me back she leave you alone den.
ANNA—[Bitterly.] But, for Gawd's sake, don't you see, you're doing the same thing you've always done? Don't you see—? [But she sees the look of obsessed stubbornness on her father's face and gives it up helplessly.] But what's the use of talking. You ain't right, that's what. I'll never blame you for nothing no more. But how you could figure out that was fixing me—!
CHRIS—Dat ain't all. Ay gat dem fallars in steam-ship office to pay you all money coming to me every month vhile Ay'm avay.
ANNA—[With a hard laugh.] Thanks. But I guess I won't be hard up for no small change.
CHRIS—[Hurt—humbly.] It ain't much, Ay know, but it's plenty for keep you so you never gat go.
ANNA—[Shortly.] Shut up, will you? We'll talk about it later, see?
CHRIS—[After a pause—ingratiatingly.] You like Ay go ashore look for dat Irish fallar, Anna?
ANNA—[Angrily.] Not much! Think I want to drag him back?
CHRIS—[After a pause—uncomfortably.] Py golly, dat booze don't go veil. Give me fever, Ay tank, Ay feel hot like hell. [He takes off his coat and lets it drop on the floor. There is a loud thud.]