Cyn. My land, Cap’n, you must be dreadful down and out to talk that way.
Ber. I ain’t a mite o’ good to any one on the face of the earth.
Cyn. You? You ain’t? Well, I’d like to see the man, woman or boy in Bay Point that you ain’t some good to. Cap’n Berry, I didn’t suppose you ever got to feeling like this. I think you must have lost sight of the Beacon.
Ber. (suddenly looking up). By tunket, Miss Cynthy, you’re right! That’s jest what I’ve done! I reckon I’m kind of tuckered out. I was jest naturally making a fool of myself, thinking there weren’t nobody on earth that loves me, and by Crismus, why should there be? I ain’t got relations same’s other men and I ain’t got no right to expect the same kind of happiness as other men. Well, I’ll set sail for the Point and go on duty. That’s the thing for me to do. I’ve been spending too much time over here and I need to go to work.
Cyn. Cap’n Berry, I should think you would be ashamed to talk so. Nobody loves you! Why, everybody in Bay Point loves you, and you know it.
Ber. (suddenly and bluntly). Do you, Miss Cynthy?
Cyn. (very much confused and upset). Why, my gracious, Cap’n! What a way to put it! How you talk!
Ber. (looking at her curiously). I’m a regular old fool, Cynthy. I’ve had this on my mind for a long time and now, by tunket, I’m going to get it off and then I’ll stop mooning around like a sixteen-year-old kid! The first day I met you I loved you and I have been loving you a little more every time I have seen you since. I wouldn’t want you to marry unless it meant the same to you as it does to me, and I can’t believe that’s possible. I reckon I know what you’re thinking. I reckon I know what your answer will be, but I might as well have it from you straight. (Goes to her, and puts his hands on her shoulders.) Cynthy, do you think it would be possible for you to find happiness with a frost-bitten old Cranberry?
Cyn. (looking up at him). I think it would, Cran, if you were the Berry.
CURTAIN