P {Filling a pipe and looking about the room.} I've walked a great
way through the world, lady of the house, and seen great wonders, but I
never seen a wake till this day with fine spirits, and good tobacco, and
the best of pipes, and no one to taste them but a woman only.

NORA Didn't you hear me say it was only after dying on me he was when
the sun went down, and how would I go out into the glen and tell the
neighbours, and I a lone woman with no house near me?

TRAMP {Drinking.} There's no offence, lady of the house?

NORA No offence in life, stranger. How would the like of you, passing
in the dark night, know the lonesome way I was with no house near me at
all?

TRAMP {Sitting down.} I knew rightly. {He lights his pipe so that there
is a sharp light beneath his haggard face.} And I was thinking, and I
coming in through the door, that it's many a lone woman would be afeard
of the like of me in the dark night, in a place wouldn't be so lonesome
as this place, where there aren't two living souls would see the little
light you have shining from the glass.

NORA {Slowly.} I'm thinking many would be afeard, but I never knew what
way I'd be afeard of beggar or bishop or any man of you at all. {She
looks towards the window and lowers her voice.} It's other things than
the like of you, stranger, would make a person afeard.

TRAMP {Looking round with a half-shudder.} It is surely, God help us
all!

NORA {Looking at him for a moment with curiosity.} You're saying that,
stranger, as if you were easy afeard.

TRAMP {Speaking mournfully.} Is it myself, lady of the house, that does
be walking round in the long nights, and crossing the hills when the fog
is on them, the time a little stick would seem as big as your arm, and
a rabbit as big as a bay horse, and a stack of turf as big as a towering
church in the city of Dublin? If myself was easily afeard, I'm telling
you, it's long ago I'ld have been locked into the Richmond Asylum, or
maybe have run up into the back hills with nothing on me but an old
shirt, and been eaten with crows the like of Patch Darcy--the Lord have
mercy on him--in the year that's gone.

NORA {With interest.} You knew Darcy?

TRAMP Wasn't I the last one heard his living voice in the whole world?

NORA There were great stories of what was heard at that time, but would
any one believe the things they do be saying in the glen?

TRAMP It was no lie, lady of the house.... I was passing below on a dark