AUNT MARY. Another ridiculous surprise, I suppose. But he shall not surprise me. Young man, isn’t your name Sawyer?
THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma’am.
AUNT MARY. Abram?
THE CALIFORNIAN. Abram Sawyer. You’re right there, ma’am.
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh! oh! I knew it! I knew that he must be somebody belonging to us. Oh, thank you, aunty, for thinking—
AUNT MARY. Don’t be absurd, Agnes. Then you’re my—
A VOICE from one of the berths. Lost step-son. Found! found at last!
[THE CALIFORNIAN looks vainly round in an endeavor to identify the speaker, and then turns again to AUNT MARY.]
AUNT MARY. Weren’t your parents from Bath?
THE CALIFORNIAN (eagerly). Both of ’em, ma’am—both of ’em.