Engstrand.
No, I’m blest if I am!
Regina.
Not even of sending me a scrap of stuff for a new dress?
Engstrand.
Come to town with me, my lass, and you’ll soon get dresses enough.
Regina.
Pooh! I can do that on my own account, if I want to.
Engstrand.
No, a father’s guiding hand is what you want, Regina. Now, I’ve got my eye on a capital house in Little Harbour Street. They don’t want much ready-money; and it could be a sort of a Sailors’ Home, you know.