(turning round) Well, this is the very last drink ye'll get then. [Exit.

PADNA
Women are all alike.

MICUS
They are, God forgive them.

PADNA
They must keep talkin'.

MICUS
An' 'tis only a fool that 'ud try to prevent 'em.

MRS. COTTER (entering and placing measures on table)
Hurry up, now, an' don't have me at the next Petty
Sessions.
[Exit.

MICUS (after testing drink)
Nothin' like a good pint o' "Dundon's."

PADNA
'Tis great stuff.

MICUS May the Lord spare them long, an' they buildin' houses for the poor an' churches for God!

PADNA
An' all out o' the beer money?

MICUS Of course. What else could ye make money at in a country like this?

PADNA
'Tis a thirsty climate!

MICUS If all those who made money built houses for the poor an' gave employment, there 'ud soon be no poor at all.

PADNA You're talkin' what's called socialism now, an' that's too delicate a plant, like Christianity, to thrive in a planet like this. So I heard one o' them preacher chaps sayin' the other evenin'.

MICUS Well, be all accounts, we're no better off than those who heard St. Peter himself preachin'. The poor still only get the promise of Heaven from the clergy.

PADNA
That's all they'll ever get.

MICUS
The world must surely be lost, Padna.

PADNA
Nothin' surer!

MICUS If God ever goes rummagin' among the stars an' finds it again, there'll be bad work, I'm thinkin'.

PADNA
I wonder will it be a great fire or another flood?

MICUS
Tis hard to tell!

[A loud knocking is heard at the door.

MRS. COTTER (from the shop)
Who's there?

VOICE
Police.

PADNA
May ye freeze there!

MICUS
Or trip over the threshold and break ye'r neck!

MRS. COTTER (rushing into kitchen) Quick! quick! quick! (Points to a door) This way, boys!

[Micus and Padna enter a small room off the kitchen. Mrs. Cotter locks the door and opens the street door for the policeman, the knocking getting louder meanwhile.

MRS. COTTER
Wait a minit! Wait a minit! I'm comin', I'm comin'.

[Opens door. Enter Head Constable Mulligan, R.I.C.

HEAD
You took a long time to open the door, ma'am.

MRS. COTTER I know I did, but it wasn't me fault, Head. I had the house locked up for the night, an' couldn't find where I left the kay.

HEAD 'Tis all right, ma'am. I can lose things meself. (Looks carefully around) 'Tis a lonesome thing to see the house so empty.

MRS. COTTER
'Tis Sunday night, Head.

HEAD Of course, of course! All the same I'd prefer to see it full—of bona-fide travellers, I mean.

MRS. COTTER Thank ye, Head. How's Mrs. Mulligan an' the childer?

HEAD
Wisha, purty fair. How's the world usin' yourself?

MRS. COTTER
Only for the rheumatics I'd have no cause to grumble.

HEAD 'Tis well to be alive at all these times. An' Ballyferris isn't the best place to keep any one alive in winter time.

MRS. COTTER Or summer time ayther. Whin the weather is good trade is bad.

HEAD That's always the way in this world. We're no sooner, out o' one trouble before another commences. I always admire the way you bear your troubles, though, Mrs. Cotter.

MRS. COTTER
I does me best, Head.

HEAD Just like meself! Just like meself! The Government makes laws an' I must see that they're not broken. (Rubbing his hands together) 'Tis a cold night, an' no doubt about it.

MRS. COTTER
Bad weather is due to us now.

HEAD Everythin' bad is due to some of us. Only for that shark of an Inspector 'tis little trouble I'd be givin' a dacent woman like yourself a night like this.

MRS. COTTER
He's very strict, I hear.

HEAD He's strict, disagreeable, a Protestant, a teetotaler, an' a Cromwellian to boot!

MRS. COTTER The Lord protect us! 'Tis a wonder you're alive at all!

HEAD Wisha, I'm only half alive. The cold never agrees with me. (Looking at fire) That's not a very dangerous fire, an' I'm as cold as a snowball.

MRS. COTTER (with her back to the door behind which Padna and Micus are hiding) There's a fine fire up-stairs in the sittin'-room.

HEAD (draws a chair and sits down) Thank ye, ma'am, but 'tisn't worth me while goin' up-stairs. As I said before, I wouldn't trouble you at all only for the Inspector, an' like Nelson, he expects every one to do their duty.

MRS. COTTER
'Tis a hard world.

HEAD An' a cold world too. I often feels cold on a summer day.

MRS. COTTER
That's too bad! Is there no cure for it?

HEAD
They say there's a cure for everything.

MRS. COTTER
I wonder if ye took a drop o' "Wise's" ten-year-old!
It might help to warm ye, if ye sat be the fire up-stairs.

HEAD (brightening up) Now, 'pon me word, but that's strange! I was just thinkin' o' the same thing meself. That's what's called telepattery or thought transference.

MRS. COTTER
Tella—what, Head?

HEAD (with confidence)
Telepattery, ma'am. 'Tis like this: I might be in
America—

MRS. COTTER
I wish you were—

HEAD (with a look of surprise)
What's that, ma'am?

MRS. COTTER I wish for your own sake that you were in a country where you would get better paid for your work.

HEAD (satisfied) Thank ye, ma'am. I suppose min like meself must wait till we go to the other world to get our reward.

MRS. COTTER
Very likely!

HEAD Well, as I was sayin', I might be in America, or New York, Boston, Chicago, or any o' thim foreign places, an' you might be in this very house, or up in your sister's house, or takin' a walk down the town, an' I'd think o' some thought, an' at that very second you'd think o' the same thought, an' nayther of us would know that we were both thinkin' o' the same thing. That's tellepattery, ma'am.

MRS. COTTER 'Tis a surprisin' thing, surely! Is it hot or cold you'll have the whiskey, Head?

HEAD
Cold, if ye please.

[Exit Mrs. Cotter. While she is away, he walks up and down whistling some popular air. Enter Mrs. Cotter.

MRS. COTTER
Will I bring it up-stairs for you?

HEAD
Indeed, I'm givin' you too much trouble as it is. I'll
try an' take it where I am. (Takes glass and tastes)
That is good stuff.

MRS. COTTER
I'm glad you like it.

HEAD
Who wouldn't like it?

MRS. COTTER
I don't know the taste of it.

HEAD (as he finishes contents of