O'CLEARY. [Taking up a rush mat he is making] Oh! I can do it on me head. It's the miserablest stuff—don't take the brains of a mouse. [Working his mouth] It's here I feel it—the want of a little noise —a terrible little wud ease me.
THE GOVERNOR. You know as well as I do that if you were out in the shops you wouldn't be allowed to talk.
O'CLEARY. [With a look of profound meaning] Not with my mouth.
THE GOVERNOR. Well, then?
O'CLEARY. But it's the great conversation I'd have.
THE GOVERNOR. [With a smile] Well, no more conversation on your door.
O'CLEARY. No, sirr, I wud not have the little wit to repeat meself.
THE GOVERNOR. [Turning] Good-night.
O'CLEARY. Good-night, your honour.
He turns into his cell. The GOVERNOR shuts the door.