CARMODY (_wavering a bit_). Report all you like, and be damned to you!

GAYNOR (_ignoring the interruption--impressively_). A majority of the
most influential men of this city are behind the Society. Do you know
that? (_Grimly._) We'll find a way to move you, Carmody, if you try to
be stubborn.

CARMODY (_thoroughly frightened, but still protesting_). Ara, Doctor,
you don't see the way of it at all. If Eileen goes to the hospital,
who's to be takin' care of the others, and mindin' the house when I'm
off to work?

GAYNOR. You can easily hire some woman.

CARMODY (_at once furious again_). Hire? D'you think I'm a millionaire
itself?

GAYNOR (_contemptuously_). That's where the shoe pinches, eh? (_In a
rage._) I'm not going to waste any more words on you, Carmody, but I'm
damn well going to see this thing through! You might as well give in
first as last.

CARMODY (_wailing_). But where's the money comin' from?

GAYNOR (_brutally_). That's your concern. Don't lie about your poverty.
You've a steady well-paid job, and plenty of money to throw away on
drunken sprees, I'll bet. The weekly fee at the Hill Farm is only seven
dollars. You can easily afford that--the price of a few rounds of
drinks.

CARMODY. Seven dollars! And I'll have to pay a woman to come in--and
the four of the children eatin' their heads off! Glory be to God, I'll
not have a penny saved for me old age--and then it's the poor-house!

GAYNOR (_curtly_). Don't talk nonsense!

CARMODY. Ah, doctor, it's the truth I'm tellin' you!

GAYNOR. Well, perhaps I can get the Society to pay half for your
daughter--if you're really as hard up as you pretend. They're willing
to do that where it seems necessary.

CARMODY (_brightening_). Ah, Doctor, thank you.

GAYNOR (_abruptly_). Then it's all settled?

CARMODY (_grudgingly--trying to make the best of it_). I'll do my best
for Eileen, if it's needful--and you'll not be tellin' them people
about it at all, Doctor?

GAYNOR. Not unless you force me to.

CARMODY. And they'll pay the half, surely?

GAYNOR. I'll see what I can do--for your daughter's sake, not yours,
understand!

CARMODY. God bless you, Doctor! (_Grumblingly._) It's the whole of it
they ought to be payin', I'm thinkin', and them with bags of money.
'Tis them builds the hospitals and why should they be wantin' the poor
like me to support them?

GAYNOR (_disgustedly_). Bah! (_Abruptly._) I'll telephone to Doctor
Stanton to-morrow mornin