Quinn—Well, I guess I damaged the woman's arm, if ye want to know. She let out a yell ye could hear a mile, and flopped over. Then I took to me heels.
Mrs. Quinn—(In a rage.) Ye fool, have ye quite quit yer senses? Ye'll be caught and locked up fer this.
Quinn—(Glad that he has gotten the story out.) Not much.
Mrs. Quinn—Yer temper'll do fer ye, one of these days, me man. I suppose that's what ye call seem' red? Seein' red! Gawd'll get ye by the scruff of the neck when yer not lookin', and shake the ugly devil of a temper out of ye. Ye'll face the consequence for it, sooner or later.
Quinn—Aw, stop yer blather, and get me a cup of tea.
Mrs. Quinn—Tea! I'm tempted to put a pink bean in it, and make ye croak before the gallows gets ye, ye ruffian.
(There is a knock at the front door. Mrs. Quinn exits R. and returns with the Martins.)
Quinn—Hello Martin, what's up now?
Martin—Have ye seen the papers?
Quinn—No.