Mrs. Keeney [dully]. I hate the organ. It puts me in mind of home.
Keeney [a touch of resentment in his voice]. I got it jest for you!
Mrs. Keeney [dully]. I know. [She turns away from them and walks slowly to the bench on left. She lifts up one of the curtains and looks through a porthole; then utters an exclamation of joy.] Ah, water! Clear water! As far as I can see! How good it looks after all these months of ice! [She turns round to them, her face transfigured with joy.] Ah, now I must go up on deck and look at it, David!
Keeney [frowning]. Best not to-day, Annie. Best wait for a day when the sun shines.
Mrs. Keeney [desperately]. But the sun never shines in this terrible place.
Keeney [a tone of command in his voice]. Best not to-day, Annie.
Mrs. Keeney [crumbling before this command—abjectly]. Very well, David.
[She stands there, staring straight before her as if in a daze.—The two men look at her uneasily.]
Keeney [sharply]. Annie!
Mrs. Keeney [dully]. Yes, David.