Andy steps in the door. He’ll want to surprise us. [With an affectionate smile.] I wonder if the old chump’s changed much? He doesn’t seem to from his letters, does he? Still the same practical hardhead. [Shaking his head.] But just the same I doubt if he’ll want to settle down to a hum-drum farm life, after all he’s been through.
Ruth—[Resentfully.] Andy’s not like you. He likes the farm.
Robert—[Immersed in his own thoughts—enthusiastically.] Gad, the things he’s seen and experienced! Think of the places he’s been! Hong-Kong, Yokohoma, Batavia, Singapore, Bangkok, Rangoon, Bombay—all the marvelous East! And Honolulu, Sydney, Buenos Aires! All the wonderful far places I used to dream about! God, how I envy him! What a trip! [He springs to his feet and instinctively goes to the window and stares out at the horizon.]
Ruth—[Bitterly.] I s’pose you’re sorry now you didn’t go?
Robert—[Too occupied with his own thoughts to hear her—vindictively.] Oh, those cursed hills out there that I used to think promised me so much! How I’ve grown to hate the sight of them! They’re like the walls of a narrow prison yard shutting me in from all the freedom and wonder of life! [He turns back to the room with a gesture of loathing.] Sometimes I think if it wasn’t for you, Ruth, and—[his voice softening]—little Mary, I’d chuck everything up and walk down the road with just one desire in my heart—
