MOLL. Stay in there, Vanity Fair! till the hand of God falls on you in public. [_Shouts_] Come in, Professor! Come in. Your sister Briget’s just dying to meet you.... _PROF. staggers in. KILROY gasps._ PROF. Hallo, all! Am I in time? Gum, it’s an infinitely small auction. KILROY. Who in the devil’s name is this? MRS. S. James Kilroy, this is my brother. He gave me to understand he was a Professor. And there he’s after twenty years’ rambling. A disgrace. And Hugh O’Cahan has made the most of him. KILROY. I see. This has been all staged before. But it won’t work. MRS. S. That’s the style, James. That’s common sense. This tramp’s visit needn’t interfere with our plans. He’ll go off to-night.... He can go with O’Cahan.... PROF. I’ll go off when I’m ready. [_To ALLISON_] Go on, mister. Open the bazaar. It’s over twenty years since I attended an Irish auction. KILROY. Go ahead, Allison. Five hundred pounds. ALLISON. I won’t take that bid. PADDY. Fifteen ’undred. MOLL. Hurrah! ALLISON. I’ll take that bid. I’m offered fifteen hundred pounds.... PROF. Two thousand! Gum, it’s worth that between a Scot and a Jew. MRS. S. Mr. Allison, this man hasn’t a white sixpence. I’ll have to give him what’ll take him away.... PADDY. Twenty-two ’undred. ALLISON. Steady now, gentlemen. I’m bid twenty-two hundred pounds. JOSEPH [_wildly_]. Twenty-two-fifty! KILROY. Easy now, Joseph! Easy. Don’t get excited.... [_He drags JOSEPH away._] PADDY. Twenty-four ’undred. PROF. Twenty-five hundred. PADDY. Twenty-six. PROF. Twenty-seven. PADDY. Twenty-nine. PROF. [_to PADDY_]. Gum, you’re a crafty gentleman. You want it knocked down to me at three thousand.... _The KILROYS and MRS. S. are on the nerves._ KILROY [_loudly_]. This is a put-up job! The whole thing--Professor and all--is a piece of O’Cahan’s twisting.... O’C. [_strides across to KILROY_]. Say that again! JOSEPH [_gets behind his father_]. Now, father. Into him! KILROY [_afraid_]. Didn’t you call me a grabber? O’C. And what the blazes else are you? Haven’t you got a home of your own? JOSEPH. Intil him, father! O’C. Listen to me, Kilroy! I’ve been taught in good company to keep my temper. To win or lose all like a sportsman. But no man ever called me a twister twice. I’ll let you slip this once. But if you speak to me again, so help me God, you and your clown of a son’ll leave this room feet first! [_Goes back to his place._] JOSEPH [_shivering_]. Intil him, father! He struck me with a whip this morning.... PROF. My advice to you, young man, is to keep quiet. Your father is too old, and you’re too young. And I’ve grave doubts as to your courage. ALLISON. I’m selling this farm. You can exchange compliments later on. [_To PADDY_] Your last bid is twenty-nine hundred pounds, sir? PADDY. Yes. Knock it dahn.