Already it is that.
IVANOFF. But I forget myself. I talk so ugly.
ETHEL. It is not in my heart to blame you. Your wrongs have given you
the right.
IVANOFF [kissing her hand]. God bless you always!
[Illustration: "MY FRIEND, THERE IS SAND IN YOUR GEAR-BOX"]
[He takes PIKE'S hand, tries to speak, but chokes up and cannot. He
goes into the hotel.]
PIKE. There _are_ some good people over here, aren't there?
ETHEL. When you're home again I hope you will remember _them._
PIKE. I will.
ETHEL. And I hope you will forget everything I've ever said.
PIKE. Somehow it doesn't seem as if I very likely would.
ETHEL [coming toward him]. Oh yes, you will! All those unkind things
I've said to you--
PIKE. Oh, I'll forget _those_ easy!
ETHEL [going on eagerly, but almost tearfully]. And the other things,
too, when you're once more among your kind, good home folks you like so
well--and probably there's one among them that you'll be so glad to get
back to you'll hardly know you've been away--an unworldly girl--[she
falters]--one that doesn't need to be cured--oh! of all sorts of
follies--a kind girl, one who's been always sweet to you. [Turns away
from him.] I can see her--she wears a white muslin and waits by the gate
for you at twilight [turns to him again]--isn't she like that?
PIKE [shaking his head gravely].
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