 Work on land, is it? Digging spuds in the muck from dawn till dark, I suppose. Nah, I wasn't made for it, miss. I thought you'd say that. Hey, but there's good jobs and bad jobs at sea, like there'd be on land. I'm thinking, if it's in a stockhold of a proper liner I was, I'd be able to have a little house and be home to it one week out of four. And I'm thinking that maybe then I'd have the luck to find a fine, decent girl, the like of yourself now, would be willing to wed with me. Why, sure, why not?