MARTHY--Honest! Only, he's a simple old guy, see? He's got nutty notions. But he means well, honest. Listen to me, kid--[She is interrupted by the opening and shutting of the street door in the bar and by hearing CHRIS' voice.] Ssshh! ANNA--What's up? CHRIS--[Who has entered the bar. He seems considerably sobered up.] Py golly, Larry, dat grub taste good. Marthy in back? LARRY--Sure--and another tramp with her. [CHRIS starts for the entrance to the back room.] MARTHY--[To ANNA in a hurried, nervous whisper.] That's him now. He's comin' in here. Brace up! ANNA--Who? [Chris opens the door.] MARTHY--[As if she were greeting him for the first time]. Why hello, Old Chris. [Then before he can speak, she shuffles hurriedly past him into the bar, beckoning him to follow her.] Come here. I wanta tell yuh somethin'. [He goes out to her. She speaks hurriedly in a low voice.] Listen! I'm goin' to beat it down to the barge--pack up me duds and blow. That's her in there--your Anna--just come--waitin' for yuh. Treat her right, see? She's been sick. Well, s'long! [She goes into the back room--to ANNA.] S'long, kid. I gotta beat it now. See yuh later. ANNA--[Nervously.] So long. [MARTHY goes quickly out of the family entrance.] LARRY--[Looking at the stupefied CHRIS curiously.] Well, what's up now? CHRIS--[Vaguely.] Nutting--nutting. [He stands before the door to the back room in an agony of embarrassed emotion--then he forces himself to a bold decision, pushes open the door and walks in. He stands there, casts a shy glance at ANNA, whose brilliant clothes, and, to him, high-toned appearance awe him terribly. He looks about him with pitiful nervousness as if to avoid the appraising look with which she takes in his face, his clothes, etc--his voice seeming to plead for her forbearance.] Anna! ANNA--[Acutely embarrassed in her turn.] Hello--father. She told me it was you. I yust got here a little while ago. CHRIS--[Goes slowly over to her chair.] It's good--for see you--after all dem years, Anna. [He bends down over her. After an embarrassed struggle they manage to kiss each other.] ANNA--[A trace of genuine feeling in her voice.] It's good to see you, too. CHRIS--[Grasps her arms and looks into her face--then overcome by a wave of fierce tenderness.] Anna lilla! Anna lilla! [Takes her in his arms.] ANNA--[Shrinks away from him, half-frightened.] What's that--Swedish? I don't know it. [Then as if seeking relief from the tension in a voluble chatter.] Gee, I had an awful trip coming here. I'm all in. I had to sit up in the dirty coach all night--couldn't get no sleep, hardly--and then I had a hard job finding this place. I never been in New York before, you know, and-- CHRIS--[Who has been staring down at her face admiringly, not hearing what she says--impulsively.] You know you vas awful pooty gel, Anna? Ay bet all men see you fall in love with you, py yiminy! ANNA--[Repelled--harshly.] Cut it! You talk same as they all do.