is?

NORA It is, stranger. He's after dying on me, God forgive him, and there
I am now with a hundred sheep beyond on the hills, and no turf drawn for
the winter.

TRAMP {Looking closely at the dead man.} It's a queer look is on him for
a man that's dead.

NORA {Half-humorously.} He was always queer, stranger, and I suppose
them that's queer and they living men will be queer bodies after.

TRAMP Isn't it a great wonder you're letting him lie there, and he is
not tidied, or laid out itself?

NORA {Coming to the bed.} I was afeard, stranger, for he put a black
curse on me this morning if I'ld touch his body the time he'ld die
sudden, or let any one touch it except his sister only, and it's ten
miles away she lives in the big glen over the hill.

TRAMP {Looking at her and nodding slowly.} It's a queer story he
wouldn't let his own wife touch him, and he dying quiet in his bed.

NORA He was an old man, and an odd man, stranger, and it's always up on
the hills he was thinking thoughts in the dark mist. {She pulls back a
bit of the sheet.} Lay your hand on him now, and tell me if it's cold he
is surely.

TRAMP Is it getting the curse on me you'ld be, woman of the house? I
wouldn't lay my hand on him for the Lough Nahanagan and it filled with
gold.

NORA {Looking uneasily at the body.} Maybe cold would be no sign of
death with the like of him, for he was always cold, every day since I
knew him,--and every night, stranger,--{she covers up his face and comes
away from the bed}; but I'm thinking it's dead he is surely, for he's
complaining a while back of a pain in his heart, and this morning, the
time he was going off to Brittas for three days or four, he was taken
with a sharp turn. Then he went into his bed and he was saying it was
destroyed he was, the time the shadow was going up through the glen, and
when the sun set on the bog beyond he made a great lep, and let a great
cry out of him, and stiffened himself out the like of a dead sheep.

TRAMP {Crosses himself.} God rest his soul.

NORA {Pouring him out a glass of whisky.} Maybe that would do you better
than the milk of the sweetest cow in County Wicklow.

TRAMP The Almighty God reward you, and may it be to your good health.
{He drinks.}

NORA {Giving him a pipe and tobacco.} I've no pipes saving his own,
stranger, but they're sweet pipes to smoke.

TRAMP Thank you kindly, lady of the house.

NORA Sit down now, stranger, and be taking your rest.

TRAM