Bos.
Better get a lover first——
Jo.
[Brightly.] I’ve already got one!—If I had a son like that I’d bang him right and left! Bah! A man that’s afraid! [Lightly.] A sailor never knows that sooner or later—He never thinks of that—If Geert were that way—there, I know—Aunt, imagine—Geert——
Bos.
Geert?——
Jo.
He’d face the devil—eh, Aunt? Now, I’m going to finish the potatoes. Good bye, Meneer.
Bos.
Say, black eyes—do you laugh all the time?