MRS. S. Leave that to me, James. Bring your wife over at six o’clock as we arranged. KILROY. Well, I will. [_Goes out._] MRS. S. John, who was that strange man? JOHN. I don’t know nor I don’t care! _PADDY comes in, in his own clothes._ PADDY. The strange man, is it? I can tell you who he was. He was a man the Bank sent out to sweeten it. And I can tell you more. James Kilroy’s the buyer, but he’ll have the devil’s own time getting bail. JOHN. By hokey, that’s news! MRS. S. Silence, John. Would you heed a drunken horseboy? [_To PROF._] Now, Tim dear, come with me. You need a good rest. You’re tired.... PROF. [_rising._] Stand back, Briget! I don’t want a good rest--closed in the barn. [_Loudly_] My valise! Where’s my valise? MRS. S. Where are you going? PROF. I’m off. Important engagement in London. MRS. S. That’s a good man. Keep your appointment. Or I’ll put you where you won’t keep any appointments for a day or two. [_To JOHN_] Is James Kilroy away, John? JOHN. No, he’s talking out at the front. MRS. S. Tell him to come here. Quick now. _JOHN goes out._ PROF. My valise! _MOLL comes in with the old valise._ MOLL. Here’s your valise, Professor. And I suppose all your theological tools are inside of it. [_Lays it beside him._] PROF. Good-bye, O’Cahan. Thanks for the bread and cheese. That’s more than I have to thank my own sister for. O’C. Don’t mention it, Professor. [_Gives him money._] Sorry I’m leaving here myself, or you could have lain around and had a rest. PROF. [_salutes_]. You’re a chip off the old block. In rain or shine, the O’Cahans were fine men. [_Goes to PADDY_] Good-bye, Kinney. Thanks for the two bob.... MRS. S. Lord above, did you take money from Paddy Kinney? PROF. I did, and was glad to get it.... Good-bye, Paddy. PADDY. Good-bye, Professor. May we all see better days. PROF. Adieu, Moll Flanagan. Don’t sit on a barrel of gunpowder with that dress. MOLL. Good-bye, y’ould wreck ye! Yourself and that portmantual should be taken out to a bog and buried. PROF. Gum, that’s right, Moll. A long rest in an Irish bog would just suit me. I’m so tired. _KILROY and JOHN come in._ MRS. S. James Kilroy, will you drive my brother to the station? He wants to catch the first train. KILROY. I’d drive him to the very devil! [_To PROF._] Where are you going? PROF. Important engagement in London. KILROY. Gimme that ould bag! And come with me. [_Takes valise._] It won’t be my fault if you miss the train. [_Exit KILROY._] PROF. My sister, I won’t bid you good-bye. You treated me like a yellow dog. [_To JOHN_] Good-bye, Johnny. I don’t blame you. You’re only a scarecrow on your own farm. A domestic serf. JOHN. I’ve no money, Tim, or I’d give you some. PROF. It’s all right, Johnny. I understand your financial status. Briget carries the purse in her trousers pocket. _PROF. goes out._