Brown.
No, I don’t, and you know I don’t. Wouldn’t part with the dibs; that’s what I mean.
Mrs. Wangel.
[As the vessel gives a big roll.] Oh, I’m going to be very ill indeed. Why did I think I should like the sea?
Brown.
Why, indeed? I don’t know. Dash me if I do. Mad, I suppose.
Mrs. Wangel.
What am I to do now?
Brown.
Go back to old Quangle, if he’ll take you. He’s fool enough, I dare say.