Mrs. Keeney. But we can't wait for that—I can't wait. I want to get home. And the men won't wait. They want to get home. It's cruel, it's brutal for you to keep them. You must sail back. You've got no excuse. There's clear water to the south now. If you've a heart at all you've got to turn back.
Keeney [harshly]. I can't, Annie.
Mrs. Keeney. Why can't you?
Keeney. A woman couldn't rightly understand my reason.
Mrs. Keeney [wildly]. Because it's a stubborn reason. Oh, I heard you talking with the second mate. You're afraid the other captains will sneer at you because you didn't come back with a full ship. You want to live up to your silly reputation even if you do have to beat and starve men and drive me mad to do it.
Keeney [his jaw set stubbornly]. It ain't that, Annie. Them skippers would never dare sneer to my face. It ain't so much what any one'd say—but—[He hesitates, struggling to express his meaning] you see—I've always done it—since my first voyage as skipper. I always come back—with a full ship—and—it don't seem right not to—somehow. I been always first whalin' skipper out o' Homeport, and—don't you see my meanin', Annie? [He glances at her. She is not looking at him, but staring dully in front of her, not hearing a word he is saying.] Annie! [She comes to herself with a start.] Best turn in, Annie, there's a good woman. You ain't well.
Mrs. Keeney [resisting his attempts to guide her to the door in rear]. David! Won't you please turn back?
Keeney [gently]. I can't, Annie—not yet awhile. You don't see my meanin'. I got to git the ile.
Mrs. Keeney. It'd be different if you needed the money, but you don't. You've got more than plenty.
Keeney [impatiently]. It ain't the money I'm thinkin' of. D'you think I'm as mean as that?