CHRISTINE. What makes you think so?
ELIS. Why, as I was going by the cathedral just now a white dove flew down and alighted in front of me, and dropped a little branch it was carrying right at my feet.
CHRISTINE. Did you notice what kind of branch it was?
ELIS. Of course it couldn't have been an olive branch, but I believe it was a sign of peace—and I felt the life-giving joy of spring. Where's mother?
CHRISTINE [Points toward kitchen]. In the kitchen.
ELIS [Quietly and closing his eyes]. I hear the spring! I can tell that the double windows are off, I hear the wheel hubs so plainly. And what's that?—a robin chirping out in the orchard, and they are hammering down at the docks and I can smell the fresh paint on the steamers.
CHRISTINE. Can you feel all that—here in town?
ELIS. Here? It's true we are here, but I was up there, in the North, where our home lies. Oh, how did we ever get into this dreadful city where the people all hate each other and where one is always alone? Yes, it was our daily bread that led the way, but with the bread came the misfortunes: father's criminal act and little sister's illness. Tell me, do you know whether mother has ever been to see father since he's been in prison?
CHRISTINE. Why, I think she's been there this very day.
ELIS. What did she have to say about it?