STRANGER. There's a woman in that but who looks at me as if I'd come to rob her of her last mite. She says nothing—that's the trouble. But I think it's prayers she mutters, when she sees me.
LADY. What sort of prayers?
STRANGER. The sort one whispers behind the backs of those who have the evil eye or bring misfortune.
LADY. How strange! Don't you realise that one's sight can be blinded?
STRANGER. Yes, of course. But who can do it?
HOSTESS (coming across to their table). Well, look at that! I suppose she's your sister?
STRANGER. Yes. We can say so now.
HOSTESS (to the LADY). Fancy meeting someone I can speak to at last! This gentleman's so silent, you see, that one feels at once one must respect him; particularly as he seems to have had trouble. But I can say this to his sister, and he shall hear it: that from the moment he entered the house I felt that I was blessed. I'd been dogged by misfortune; I'd no lodger, my only cow had died, my husband was in a home for drunkards and my children had nothing to eat. I prayed God to send me help from heaven, because I expected nothing more on earth. Then this gentleman came. And apart from giving me double what I asked, he brought me good luck—and my house was blessed. God bless you, good sir!
STRANGER (getting up excitedly). Silence, woman. That's blasphemy!
LADY. He won't believe. O God! He won't believe. Look at me!