The woods! They
fight for life the way that Captain fought for life in there!
(_Pointing to the closed door_.)
MRS PATRICK: (_with a strange exultation_) And lose the way he lost in
there!
ALLIE MAYO: (_sure, sombre_) They don't lose.
MRS PATRICK: Don't _lose_? (_triumphant_) I have walked on the tops of
buried trees!
ALLIE MAYO: (_slow, sombre, yet large_) And vines will grow over the
sand that covers the trees, and hold it. And other trees will grow over
the buried trees.
MRS PATRICK: I've watched the sand slip down on the vines that reach out
farthest.
ALLIE MAYO: Another vine will reach that spot. (_under her breath,
tenderly_) Strange little things that reach out farthest!
MRS PATRICK: And will be buried soonest!
ALLIE MAYO: And hold the sand for things behind them. They save a wood
that guards a town.
MRS PATRICK: I care nothing about a wood to guard a town. This is the
outside--these dunes where only beach grass grows, this outer shore
where men can't live. The Outside. You who were born here and who die
here have named it that.
ALLIE MAYO: Yes, we named it that, and we had reason. He died here
(_reaches her hand toward the closed door_) and many a one before him.
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