Mike. (Winking.) O’im all right as long as free lunches hold out.
Norah. Free lunches ye’d better let alone, Mike.
Mike. Norah, it’s not the lunches that afficts me. It’s what goes with thim.
Norah. Last time you know, Dr. Fluke said you’d have to leave if you got drunk again.
Mike. It’s a bit o’ charity the doctor needs. Ivery mon has some wakeness.
Norah. And woman is weak too, so just carry out that box of bottles for me, I’ll have to wash them here. The doctor has some of his truck in the laboratory.
Mike. He’ll be blowin’ the whole place up yit with his dinnymite an’ farmacopy. (Brings out bottles and sets box L. up.)
Norah. Mike, ye’d better get ready for Mr. Boyler. He’ll be here pretty soon for his electricity and that Englishman will want his bawth. (Norah washing bottles.)
Mike. Faith it’s enough to try the patience of ould Job himself. Begob, Job never was docthor’s assistant. I regret I iver intered the midical profession. Ivery toime I look at ould Boyler he sez, Mike, ye’ve hurt me rheumatiz again.