Celia: Is it at this time of the day? You
should be forgetting the hours of the clock the
same as the poor mother.
Conan: It is a strange thing since I came to
this house I never can get one minute's ease and
quiet to myself.
Celia: It was hearing you singing brought me in.
Conan: I'd sooner have you without! Be
going now.
Celia: I will and welcome. It is to bring out
my little pigeon I will, where there is a few grains
of barley fell from a car going the road.
Conan: Hurry on so!
Celia: (Taking up cage.) He is not in his crib.
(Looking here and there.) Where now can he
have gone?
Conan: He should have gone out the door.
Celia: He did not. He could not have come
out unknown to me. Coo, coo,—coo—coo.
Conan: Never mind him now. You are putting
my mind astray with your Coo, coo—