 I think you wasn't that kind of girl, Anna. I suppose you want me to beat it, don't you? You don't want me here disgracing you, I suppose. No, you stay here. It ain't your fault, Anna. I know that. It's that old devil, C. She do this to me. It's her dirty tricks. It was all right on barge with just you and me. Didn't she bring that Irish fella in fog? She make you like him.