Paul Ruttledge. [Sitting down beside him.] Ah, my old friends, they were very kind to me; but these friends too are very kind to me.
Charlie Ward. Well, come and see them anyway; they'll be glad to see you, those that are left of us.
Paul Ruttledge. Those that are left of you? Where are the others?
Charlie Ward. Some are dead, and some are jailed, and some are on the roads here and there. Sabina is with us always, and Johneen is a great hand with the tools now, but Tommy the Song——
Paul Ruttledge. Oh, Tommy the Song, does he pray still? He was beginning to pray. Did he ever get an answer?
Charlie Ward. Well, I don't know about an answer, but I believe he heard something one night beside an old thorn tree, some sort of a voice it was.
Paul Ruttledge. A voice? What did it say to him? Did he see anything? We have learned too much, our minds are like troubled water—we get nothing but broken images. He who knew nothing may have seen all. Is he praying still?
Charlie Ward. If he is, it's in Galway gaol he's praying, with or without a thorn tree.
Paul Ruttledge. Did he tell no one what the voice said to him?
Charlie Ward. He did not, unless he might have told Johneen or some other one.