Faith, Jimmie-boy, it’s just comin’ into me head what was the throuble! Shure the siven grand princes must ’a’ looked in the church window the day I married your Maw, and seein’ her that wanst o’ course no princess could plaze ’em afther. It was green-eyed envy filled their siven souls that day, I’m thinkin’, for Pat O’Flaherty gettin’ such a jewell and nobody left beautiful enough for them at all! JIMMIE. Paw, quit yer jokin’! Git along with the story. PAT. Jimmie darlin’, it’s not jokin’ I am. Your Maw’s a jewell, a rael beautiful jewell, and that’s the truth. I don’t deserve her, I don’t. [_Suddenly breaks down and sobs._] JIMMIE. Aw, Paw, don’t do that—don’t. [_He begins to whimper. NORA starts to comfort him when a knock is heard. PAT shakes himself together and opens the door, and JOHN BING, a policeman, enters._] PAT. [_To NORA._] A policeman! JOHN BING. [_Glancing at paper in his hand._] Does Patrick O’Flaherty live here? PAT. Faith, he does that, an’ what would the majestic arrm o’ the law be wantin’, if ye please, intrudin’ in a peaceful man’s house? JOHN BING. I’ve a warrant here for the arrest of Patrick O’Flaherty on the ground of repeated violence towards his wife. PAT. Howly Saints! An’ who shwore out that warrant? JOHN BING. [_Glancing at paper._] Nora O’Flaherty. [_Looking at NORA._] I guess it’s true, all right. Come along. PAT. Nora! You niver did that to your own man? [_NORA makes no reply but a sniffle._] Nora! JOHN BING. Well, hurry up. Better come quietly. JIMMIE. Paw, what’s the matter? What’s he come for? Make him go ’way. PAT. [_Taking BING’S coat lapel confidentially._] Mr. Officer—you see the little lad there? He’s—well—well, he’ll never walk no more. Perhaps you got childer yourself? Would you mind just waitin’ a bit of a minute, or maybe two, till I finish a shtory I was tellin’ him? He’ll let me go aisier so. JOHN BING. [_Looking at his watch._] Five minutes, then. PAT. Thank ye kindly. [_Returns to JIMMIE, giving his lounge a little push so JIMMIE will not see JOHN BING._] Now, me lad, where were we in the shtory? JIMMIE. About the beautiful princesses. PAT. Shure, I’m thinkin’ it’s mortal weary them siven princes will be lookin’ for their beautiful princesses all this time, when right here in this room with us two all so happy an’ lovin’-like is your Maw, out o’ their reach. [_JIMMIE suddenly laughs out merrily, the first time he has done more than smile wanly._] So what do you think they did next? JIMMIE. I dunno. PAT. Guess. [_Here NORA, who has been weeping and washing harder and harder, makes a dash and throws open the door to the hall, grabbing the warrant meanwhile out of the hand of JOHN BING._] NORA. Mr. Officer, you walk right out o’ here and down them shtairs and don’t you be waitin’ no more for Patrick O’Flaherty. He ain’t goin’ with you. He’s goin’ to git a job stiddy and shtay here. JOHN BING.