MRS. FENNESSEY I'm sick and tired of listenin' to you and your excuses, but I'm not goin' to listen to them any longer. So pack up and get out, or if you don't I'll get my brother Mike to fling you out, and believe me he won't take long to do it, either.
PATCHA
You're losin' all your dacency, Mrs. Fennessey.
MRS. FENNESSEY Thank God for it, if I am then! But I'm gettin' back my good sense, and I won't talk or argue any more with you.
PATCHA
You should feel ashamed of yourself, Mrs. Fennessey.
MRS. FENNESSEY Indeed then, I should, for puttin' up with the likes of you. You've got to be out of this house before twelve o'clock to-morrow and remember I mean what I say.
[She walks out and slams the door. Patcha sits up in bed, rearranges the bedclothes, then places his hand under his chin, and wrinkles his brow. Remains that way until he is disturbed by a knock at the door
MRS. FENNESSEY (opens, and holds the door ajar)
There's a gentleman wants to see you.
PATCHA Who is he? What is he like, and where does he come from?
MRS. FENNESSEY How do I know where he comes from? He wanted to know if Napoleon lived here and I told him there was no one livin' here at present but one Patcha Cremin. Sure, that's who I mean, says he. Are you Napoleon?
PATCHA
Yes, I'm Napoleon.