FATHER HART. You cannot know how naughty your words are!
That is our Blessed Lord.
THE CHILD. Hide it away,
BRIDGET. I have begun to be afraid again.
THE CHILD. Hide it away!
MAURTEEN. That would be wickedness!
BRIDGET. That would be sacrilege!
THE CHILD. The tortured thing
Hide it away!
MAURTEEN. Her parents are to blame.
FATHER HART. That is the image of the Son of God.
THE CHILD (caressing him) Hide it away, hide it away!