your feelings. Just because you love it here, you’ve got your mind set that I like it, too. You want me to stay on so’s you can know that I’ll be taking care of the rotten farm after you’re gone. Well, Rob’ll be here, and he’s a Mayo, too. You can leave it in his hands.
Robert—Andy! Don’t! You’re only making it worse.
Andrew—[Sulkily.] I don’t care. I’ve done my share of work here. I’ve earned my right to quit when I want to. [Suddenly overcome with anger and grief; with rising intensity.] I’m sick and tired of the whole damn business. I hate the farm and every inch of ground in it. I’m sick of digging in the dirt and sweating in the sun like a slave without getting a word of thanks for it. [Tears of rage starting to his eyes—hoarsely.] I’m through, through for good and all; and if Uncle Dick won’t take me on his ship, I’ll find another. I’ll get away somewhere, somehow.
Mrs. Mayo—[In a frightened voice.] Don’t you answer him, James. He doesn’t know what he’s saying to you. Don’t say a word to him ’til he’s in his right senses again. Please James, don’t———
Mayo—[Pushes her away from him; his face is drawn and pale with the violence of his passion. He glares at Andrew as if he hated him.] You dare to—you dare to speak like that to me? You talk like that ’bout this farm—the Mayo farm—where you was born—you—you——— [He clenches his fist above
