DAISY. No, seh! Not on your life. I wouldn’t marry old Deegan--nor his fool son--not if they owned the landscape.... I just meant to fix up a match and then clear out with all I could rake up. PAUL. A very meritorious idea. DAISY. But now the whole thing has gone flop, and I ain’t got a cent to meet that draft.... Old Deegan thinks I got that money, but I ain’t.... True to heaven, Paul Twyning, that money was stolen in Pat Deegan’s saloon. Patrick or his wife, or yon goat of a son, swiped the lot--papers and all. PAUL. Were the papers valuable? DAISY. The papers wasn’t worth a cent. I was cook to a retired broker, and fished ’em out of the trash-basket. PAUL [_laughs_]. Awh, that’s delicious! It’s a great pity the law has power to step in and spoil so fine a joke. DAISY [_produces a cablegram_]. And I’d this cable cooked up and sent me by a friend. PAUL [_scanning it and grinning expansively_]. You’re not slow, Daisy! My sowl, there’s not a slow joint in your body. [_Hands back the cablegram._] Keep that cable like the sight of your eye, for ’twill come in useful anon. DAISY [_starts_]. I hear Deegan’s car.... I hear it coming.... Oh, I can’t stick it.... I’m all nerves. [_Shakes violently._] PAUL. Listen to me, girl. Stiffen up and cut out them shivers. You’ve every decent card in the pack, and I’ve the Joker. If you play half a game we’ll sweep the board.... DAISY. You think? PAUL. No, I’m sure. Pay attention to this. Ould Deegan--the great lay lawyer--has made you an assignment of himself and his property. If he dares to go back on the contract, you hold out hard for a thousand pound. DAISY. But the fake draft--how about it? PAUL. Tell them it’s a good draft. Tell them you paid your money for it in New York like a decent girl, and if it isn’t in order, the bank is to blame, not you. DAISY. But I got it in the trash-basket.... PAUL. The broad Atlantic is rowling between you and the trash-basket.... Brazen it out on my lines, and you’ll win your case.... _The car is heard coming into the yard._ DAISY [_looks out back window_]. They’re all here ... Patrick and Mrs. Deegan ... and O’Hagan.... [_Turns in._] Oh, Paul, where can I go?... I can’t stay here.... PAUL. Go into the room, and listen carefully to the drift of our discourse.... I’ll give a professional cough when I want you to come out. [_DAISY goes towards the room._] And I’m saying. If O’Hagan asks you any impertinent questions, refer him to your American solicitors. And if he wants to know the name of your solicitors say Brown and Fitzgerald, Broadway, New York. And if he wants a broker--refer him to Funk and Wignell, Wall Street.... DAISY. I hope he don’t ask no questions.... [_She goes into the room._] PAUL [_gets busy mixing mortar, and sings_]