MRS. COTTER
Who's there?
VOICE
Police!
HEAD
Police, did I hear?
MRS. COTTER
'Tis the Sergeant's voice.
HEAD
Glory to be God! I'm ruined! If he finds the smell o'
whiskey from me, he'll tell the Inspector, an' then
Head Constable Mulligan is no more!
MRS. COTTER
Is he as bad as that?
HEAD He has no conscience at all. He's a friend o' the Inspector's. (Knocking continues at door) Don't open that door till I tell you—that's if you don't want to find a corpse on the floor.
MRS. COTTER
Sure, I must open the door.
HEAD Time enough. He's paid for waitin'. Have you such a thing as an onion in the house?
MRS. COTTER
I didn't see an onion for the last three weeks.