Nestor: It is more likely he will get it consigned to the shipping agent. Mind what I say now, it is best not be speaking of him at all.
(Timothy Ward comes in triumphantly, croaking his toy. He has a bird in his hand.)
Ward: I chanced on a starling. It was not with this I tempted him, but a little chap that had him in a crib. Would you say now, Mr. Nestor, would that do as well as a jackdaw? Look now, it’s as handsome every bit as the other. And anyway it is likely they will both die before they will reach to their journey’s end.
Nestor: (Lifting up his hands.) Of all the foolishness that ever came upon the world!
Ward: Hurry on now, Mrs. Broderick, tell me where will I bring it to the buyer you were speaking of. He is fluttering that hard it is much if I can keep him in my hand. Is it at Noonan’s Royal Hotel he is or is it at Mack’s?
Nestor: (Shaking his head threateningly.) How can you tell that and you not knowing it yourself?
Ward: Sure you have a right to know what way did he go, and he after going out of this.
Mrs. Broderick: (Her eyes apprehensively on Nestor.) Ah, sure, my mind was tattered on me. I couldn’t know did he go east or west. Standing here in this place I was, like a ghost that got a knock upon its head.
Ward: If he is coming back for the bird it is here he will be coming, and if it is to be sent after him it is likely you will have his address.
Mrs. Broderick: So I should, too, I suppose. Where now did I put it? (She looks to Nestor for orders, but cannot understand his signs, and turns out pocket.) That’s my specs ... that’s the key of the box ... that’s a bit of root liquorice.... Where now at all could I have left down that address?