Conan: (Shakes head.) Let ye make the best of it.
Flannery: (Sings.) (Air, "I saw from the Beach.")
"Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning
The close of our day, the calm eve of our night.
Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of morning,
Her clouds and her tears are worth evening's best light."
Mother: (Who has bellows in her hand.) Stop!
Stop—my mind is travelling backward ...so far
I can hardly reach to it ...but I'll come to it
...the way I'll be changed to what I was before,
and the town and the country wishing me well, I
having got my enough of unfriendly looks and hard
words!
Timothy: Hurry on, Ma'am, and remember, and
take the spell off the whole of us.
Mother: I am going back, back, to the longest
thing that is in my mind and my memory!...
I myself a child in my mother's arms the very day
I was christened....
Conan: Ah, stop your raving!