Pat. Open the door, cushla; the police will be takin’ me up.
Nora. He won’t kape you long, alanna!
Pat. Nora, if you let me in, I’ll tell you how I came to lave you at the fair last night.
Nora (relenting). Will you, for true?
Pat. Indade I will.
(Nora unlocks door. Enter Pat gayly. He snatches a kiss from her.)
Nora. Be off wid ye! Now tell me how you happened to be wid Mary O’Dwight last night?
Pat (sitting down). Well, you see it happened this way; ye know Mike O’ Dwight is her brother, and he and me is blatherin’ good friends, ye know; and as we was going to Caltry the ither day, Mike says to me, says he: “Pat, what’ll you take fur that dog?” and I says, says I—
Nora (who has been listening earnestly). Bother you, Pat, but you are foolin’ me again.
Pat (coaxingly takes her hand). No—no—Nora—I’ll tell ye the truth this time, sure. Well, as I was sayin’, Mike and me is good friends; and Mike says, says he: “Pat, that’s a good dog.” “Yis,” says I, “it is.” And he says, says he. “Pat, it is a blatherin’ good dog.” “Yis,” says I; and then—and then—(Scratches his head as if to aid his imagination.)