Andrew—That’s good advice. [But after a pause, he returns to the subject again.] You see, you and I ain’t like most brothers—always fighting and separated a lot of the time, while we’ve always been together—just the two of us. It’s different with us. That’s why it hits so hard, I guess.
Robert—[With feeling.] It’s just as hard for me, Andy—believe that! I hate to leave you and the old folks—but—I feel I’ve got to. There’s something calling me——— [He points to the horizon] calling to me from over there, beyond——— and I feel as if——— no matter what happens——— Oh, I can’t just explain it to you, Andy.
Andrew—No need to, Rob. [Angry at himself.] You needn’t try to explain. It’s all just as it ought to be. Hell! You want to go. You feel you ought to, and you got to!——— that’s all there is to it; and I wouldn’t have you miss this chance for the world.
Robert—It’s fine of you to feel that way, Andy.
Andrew—Huh! I’d be a nice son-of-a-gun if I didn’t, wouldn’t I? When I know how you need this sea trip to make a new man of you—in the body, I mean—and give you your full health back.
Robert—[A trifle impatiently.] All of you seem to keep harping on my health. You were so used to seeing me lying around the house in the old days that you never will get over the notion that I’m a chronic invalid, and have to be looked after like a baby all the time, or wheeled round in a chair like Mrs. Atkins. You don’t realize how I’ve bucked up in the past few
