ETHEL.  Listen:  those are the fishermen coming home.

[PIKE stands in arrested attitude, not having looked at the letter.  The song, beginning faintly, grows louder, then slowly dies away in the distance.  The two stand listening in deepening twilight.]

PIKE [as the voices cease to be heard].  It’s mighty pretty, but it’s kind of foreign and lonesome, too. [With a sad half-chuckle.] I’d rather hear something that sounded more like home. [A growing tremulousness in his voice.] I expect you’ve about forgot everything like that, haven’t you?

ETHEL [gently].  Yes.

PIKE.  Seems funny, now; but out on the ocean, coming here, I kept kind of looking forward to hearing you sing.  I knew how high your pa had you educated in music, and, like the old fool I was, I kept thinking you’d sing for me some evening—­“Sweet Genevieve” mebbe.  You know it—­don’t you?

ETHEL [slowly].  “Sweet Genevieve?” I used to—­but it’s rather old-fashioned and common, isn’t it?

PIKE.  I expect so; I reckon mebbe that’s the reason I like it so much.

[With an apologetic and pathetic laugh.]

Yes’m, it’s my favorite.  I couldn’t—­I couldn’t get you to sing it for me before I go back home—­could I?

ETHEL.  I—­I think not.

[She looks at him thoughtfully, then goes slowly into the hotel.]

[PIKE sighs, and begins to read the last page of the letter.]

PIKE [reading].  “I am sorry old man Simpson’s daughter thinks of buying a title.  Somehow I have a notion that that may hit you, Dan.

[Poignant dismay and awe are expressed in his voice as he continues.]

“I haven’t forgotten how you always kept that picture of her on your desk.  The old man thought so much of you I had an idea he hoped she’d come back some day and marry a man from home.”

I don’t wonder she said she hadn’t read it!

[His face begins to light with radiant amazement.]

But she had—­and she didn’t go away—­that is, not right away!

[LORD HAWCASTLE and HORACE enter from the hotel.]

HORACE [speaking as they enter].  But, Lord Hawcastle, Ethel says Mr.
Pike positively refuses.

HAWCASTLE.  Leave him to me.  Within ten minutes he will be as meek as a nun.

[HORACE goes into the hotel.]

My dear Pike, there is a certain question—­

PIKE [in his mildest tone].  I don’t want to seem rough with you, but I meant what I said.

HAWCASTLE.  Imagining I did not mean that question—­

PIKE.  Then it’s all right.

HAWCASTLE.  Late this afternoon I developed a great anxiety concerning the penalty prescribed by Italian law for those unfortunate and impulsive individuals who connive at the escape or concealment—­[he speaks with significant emphasis and a glance at the hotel, where lights begin to appear in the windows]—­of certain other unfortunates who may be, to speak vulgarly, wanted—­by the police.