Farewell.
All remain quiet. The strains of a melancholy air like a serenade come from outside. It slowly dies away in the distance. Robbie John moves forward as if to go out.
Mrs. Granahan.
Sharply.
Robbie John. Where are you going? Don't dare to leave the house. My son going out to keep company with the likes of that dirty rapscallion.
Robbie John.
Ah mother pity the poor wretch. Every word you said to him cut and wounded me to the quick. Did you not see the tears in his eyes for all his fine talk. I should like to know more about him.
Samuel James.
If you went to the sergeant at the barrack, I warrant ye he could tell you more about him.