“Did I live to be as old as Mickthusalem, I’d not forgive you for it! Oh, Tommy, how could you go up the street when I went down? To treat me so! Don’t never mind nothing else; play me tricks and scold me and don’t do right nor anywheres near right, but how could you do that? Oh, Tommy, how could you go up the street when I went down? Me expecting your feet after me every second, me looking back at the corner. You going up, and me going down! Rob me of them portcheers I see you got there, and play me tricks with that mirror, and do like you want to about all the hall-racks in the world, but you never come to find me when I was hiding away! Have the red portcheers and welcome to everything my heart was set on, but you never come to me when I was hiding, and how could I tell you where I was hiding away? Oh, I been so unhappy without you, Tommy; there’s nobody got any sympathy for a deserted wife, but just a jeer at her and say, ‘No wonder he left, if you take one look at her big platter face’—but my eyes is nice and my hair is lovely, I was always told. Take away the red portcheers my heart was set on, Tommy, and I know you don’t love me, but we belong to each other, just the same, but don’t—oh, if you ain’t looking to break my heart—don’t never again go up a street when I’m going down!”
The McGibneys saw them standing in the centre of the room, arms about each other, hands patting each other’s shoulder-blades.
Tommy began to whimper. Arms mothered him. Steady tapping away on his shoulder-blades. Then Tommy blubbered outright:
“Oh, Clara, I been missable! I been missable something fierce, living alone! I ain’t ate nor slept, but been working straight along and got a good job and doing pretty good, and so much as a day’s work you’ll never have to do. No! not if it’s your longest day!” A bow and a bob and a scrape, for he had discovered the McGibneys standing irresolute in the hall. He continued to blubber and he continued to tap away at shoulder-blades.
“But why didn’t you come to find me, Tommy, when I was hiding away? I told the Finnigans and everybody, so you must of known where I was hiding away!”
Clara would not have seen a hundred McGibneys. Clara was tapping most mightily with both hands upon shoulder-blades.
“On account of the brass lamp!” blubbered Tommy. A bob and a bow and a scrape! “I done fierce bad spending our savings that was for the brass lamp, and I couldn’t go find you where you was hid till I had that here, in this new home, for you to see, and be complete, and then you’d know I was sorry and it would prove I was going to do right. But it wasn’t tricks, Clara! Honest, it wasn’t tricks! Me standing on the other side of the street, and looking in the store window at you, and no overcoat, because I needed every cent to show I was going to do right. And you look at the mirror. I say, ‘Clara likes that mirror. Then Clara must have that!’ Me standing with my toes all pinched up, as my shoes is bad, and you looking at them red portcheers. Then Clara must have red portcheers! Me jumping up and down, like I’m froze, but standing there every Saturday night to see what Clara likes and Clara’s going to have that!” Bobbing, bowing, and scraping toward the hall, from Tommy; from Clara, rather a look of resentment toward the hall.
A final tap on shoulder blades and: “Why, come in and see where we’re going to start up again!”
“Ain’t it strange!” said calm, stolid Clara. “He found me, after all!”
And from all four of them, and all four meaning every word: