MARY ROSE (smoothing it down). Oh dear, oh dear, what a naughty tuft.
HARRY. My name is Harry.
MARY ROSE (liking the pretty sound). Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.
HARRY. But you don’t know what Harry I am.
MARY ROSE. No.
HARRY. And this brings us no nearer what’s to be done with you. I would willingly stay here though I have my clearing in Australy, but you’re just a ghost. They say there are ways of laying ghosts, but I am so ignorant.
MARY ROSE (imploringly). Tell me.
HARRY. I wish I could; you are even more ignorant than I am.
MARY ROSE. Tell me.
HARRY. All I know about them for certain is that they are unhappy because they can’t find something, and then once they’ve got the thing they want, they go away happy and never come back.