BEN. (turning to doorway to kitchen) That suits me. (As he goes out he speaks back over his shoulder) And see that I do get it, or there’ll be trouble. (He disappears and the slamming of the kitchen door is heard).
ROBERT. (as RUTH comes from where she has been standing by the doorway and sits down dejectedly in her old place) The stupid damn fool! And now what about the haying? That’s an example of what I’m up against. No one can say I’m responsible for that.
RUTH. He wouldn’t dare act that way with anyone else! (Spitefully, with a glance at ANDREW’S letter on the table) It’s lucky Andy’s coming back.
ROBERT. (without resentment) Yes, Andy’ll see the right thing to do in a jiffy. (With an affectionate smile) I wonder if the old chump’s changed much? He doesn’t seem to from his letters, does he? (Shaking his head) But just the same I doubt if he’ll want to settle down to a hum-drum farm life, after all he’s been through.
RUTH. (resentfully) Andy’s not like you. He likes the farm.
ROBERT. (immersed in his own thoughts—enthusiastically) Gad, the things he’s seen and experienced! Think of the places he’s been! All the wonderful far places I used to dream about! God, how I envy him! What a trip! (He springs to his feet and instinctively goes to the window and stares out at the horizon).
RUTH. (bitterly) I s’pose you’re sorry now you didn’t go?
ROBERT. (too occupied with his own thoughts to hear her—vindictively) Oh, those cursed hills out there that I used to think promised me so much! How I’ve grown to hate the sight of them! They’re like the walls of a narrow prison yard shutting me in from all the freedom and wonder of life! (He turns back to the room with a gesture of loathing) Sometimes I think if it wasn’t for you, Ruth, and—(his voice softening)—little Mary, I’d chuck everything up and walk down the road with just one desire in my heart—to put the whole rim of the world between me and those hills, and be able to breathe freely once more! (He sinks down into his chair and smiles with bitter self-scorn) There I go dreaming again—- my old fool dreams.
RUTH. (in a low, repressed voice—her eyes smoldering) You’re not the only one!
ROBERT. (buried in his own thoughts—bitterly) And Andy, who’s had the chance—what has he got out of it? His letters read like the diary of a—of a farmer! “We’re in Singapore now. It’s a dirty hole of a place and hotter than hell. Two of the crew are down with fever and we’re short-handed on the work. I’ll be damn glad when we sail again, although tacking back and forth in these blistering seas is a rotten job too!” (Scornfully) That’s about the way he summed up his impressions of the East.