AUNT—But don't you have to have the captain's—or someone's—permission to visit the stokehole?
MILDRED—[With a triumphant smile.] I have it—both his and the chief engineer's. Oh, they didn't want to at first, in spite of my social service credentials. They didn't seem a bit anxious that I should investigate how the other half lives and works on a ship. So I had to tell them that my father, the president of Nazareth Steel, chairman of the board of directors of this line, had told me it would be all right.
AUNT—He didn't.
MILDRED—How naive age makes one! But I said he did, Aunt. I even said he had given me a letter to them—which I had lost. And they were afraid to take the chance that I might be lying. [Excitedly.] So it's ho! for the stokehole. The second engineer is to escort me. [Looking at her watch again.] It's time. And here he comes, I think. [The SECOND ENGINEER enters, He is a husky, fine-looking man of thirty-five or so. He stops before the two and tips his cap, visibly embarrassed and ill-at-ease.]
SECOND ENGINEER—Miss Douglas?
MILDRED—Yes. [Throwing off her rugs and getting to her feet.] Are we all ready to start?
SECOND ENGINEER—In just a second, ma'am. I'm waiting for the Fourth. He's coming along.
MILDRED—[With a scornful smile.] You don't care to shoulder this responsibility alone, is that it?
SECOND ENGINEER—[Forcing a smile.] Two are better than one. [Disturbed by her eyes, glances out to sea—blurts out.] A fine day we're having.
MILDRED—Is it?