[Shakes head.] Dear, dear! [Brightens.] But it’s not worryin’ we’ll be this night, whin it’s Christmas eve. I’m sure that Dannie is gettin’ along fine. Maybe they’re plannin’ to let ’im come home tomorry for a s’prise an’ had to keep ’im quiet. Wouldn’t that be grand now?
Mulligan:
Let’s hope it’s so, Nora. [Sits with head bowed on hand.]
Enter Bill Jones
Jones:
Well, well! What’s Peter weepin’ ’bout this Christmas eve? [Pulls out big colored handkerchief and wipes Mulligan’s eyes.] I bet you’re cryin’ ’cause you think Santy won’t bring you any present. [Laughs.]
Mulligan:
[Laughs.] Quit pickin’ on a little feller like me. Why don’t you be teasin’ Nora here, if ye wants to pick a quarrel?
Jones:
[pretending fright] Not the missis—I’ve seen ’er bring you to time with the rollin’ pin too often to make ’er mad at me.