Bessie (Startled, steps back). Ah—you never. . .
Harry (Calm). Never yet told a lie to a woman.
Bessie. What lie?
Harry. Why, the lie that comes glib to a man's tongue. None of that for me. I leave the sneaking off to them soft-spoken chaps you're thinking of. No! If you love me you take me. And if you take me—why, then, the capstan-song of deep-water ships is sure to settle it all some fine day.
Bessie (After a short pause, with effort). It's like your ships, then.
Harry (Amused). Exactly, up to now. Or else I wouldn't be here in a silly fix.
Bessie (Assumed indifference). Perhaps it's because you've never yet met———- (Voice fails.)
Harry (Negligently). Maybe. And perhaps never shall.... What's the odds? It's the looking for a thing.... No matter. I love them all—ships and women. The scrapes they got me into, and the scrapes they got me out of—my word! I say, Miss Bessie, what are you thinking of?
Bessie (Lifts her head). That you are supposed never to tell a lie.
Harry. Never, eh? You wouldn't be that hard on a chap.