You withdraw the charge? I’ll have to report it at the station. NORA. Charge nothin’! You git out o’ here. JOHN BING. [_Stopping to gaze at her a moment._] Well, what do you think of that? The next time one of them suffragist ladies asks me what I think, I’ll tell her I think women is fools, that’s what I’ll tell her. Yep, all fools! [_He goes out._] [_PAT has sat discreetly silent, twirling his thumbs rapidly and looking in front of him._] JIMMIE. Paw! What’s Maw talkin’ about? What ’u’d he want? PAT. Niver you mind, Jimmie-boy. It was just payin’ the O’Flaherty family a call he was, nice and friendly like. Your Maw invited him, but when she saw how dishturbin’ his august prisence was in our happy home, she invited him out again. Ain’t that it, Nora darlin’? [_He holds out his hand to NORA. NORA weakly approaches, sniffling, then falls on his neck._] NORA. Oh, Pat, Pat! I niver meant to do that awful thing—I niver did. I dunno what made me. It was that nurse a-talkin’ at me. She put a spell on me, she did. Oh Pat, oh Pat! PAT. [_Patting her._] Niver mind, niver mind. I know ye didn’t. It’s all right. Niver mind, gurrl. [_A knock at the door. NORA pulls herself free and opens the door to MISS CARROLL._] PAT. [_Retreating._] It’s that dam’ nurse! She’ll be the death o’ me yit. MISS CARROLL. [_Coming quickly forward towards JIMMIE._] I can’t stop a second. I just ran in to tell Jimmie-boy I’ve been telephoning and it’s all fixed. The bran’-new suit’s going to happen next Saturday. It’s my half-holiday and I’ll come for you in a taxi and we’ll go down-town and we’ll buy it all bran’ new to fit, made just for Jimmie. JIMMIE. Aw! ’tain’t so. You’re kiddin’ me! MISS CARROLL. ’Tis so, honor bright! Cross my heart and hope to die. Well, I must run. [_Suddenly appreciating NORA’S aspect._] Why, Mrs. O’Flaherty, what’s the matter? NORA. The matter is you’re a wicked, interferin’ woman, a-makin’ me do them awful things to me pore man there! Look at him, so sweet and gentle like! Ain’t ye ’shamed o’ yourself, a-plottin’ and workin’ to put apart them as God has j’ined together in the howly estate of matrimony? It’s a bad, wicked woman I am to be listenin’ to your terrible talk. That there horrid big officer in his shiny buttons, lookin’ so fat and so satisfied, waitin’ there at the door to grab up me pore man hasn’t a coat to his back hardly! MISS CARROLL. What about the boot, Mrs. O’Flaherty? NORA. The boot, is it? Shure it’s the careless woman I am, happenin’ in the way whin he was takin’ ’em off and he with a bit of the creature in him made him excited like. MISS CARROLL.