MUSKERRY Yes. I'd even say that, considering his station in life, Myles Gorman is a very superior man. CHRISTY They say he's not a good musician. MUSKERRY And maybe he's not. I consider, however, that there's great intelligence in his face. He stands before you, and you feel that he has the life of a young colt, and then you're bound to think that, in spite of the fact that he's blind and a wanderer, the man has not wasted his life. _(Muskerry settles himself in the armchair)_ CHRISTY Will you give leave for to-morrow? MUSKERRY No, Christy, I will not. CHRISTY Why not, Mister Muskerry? MUSKERRY That man would break bounds and stay away. CHRISTY Do you think he would? MUSKERRY He'd fly off, like the woodquest flying away from the tame pigeons. CHRISTY He and his brother had a farm between them. His brother was married, and one day the brother told Myles to go to Dublin to see a comrade of his who was sick. Myles was home in a week, and when he came back he found that his brother had sold the place and was gone out of the country. MUSKERRY His brother did wrong, but he didn't do so much wrong to Myles Gorman. CHRISTY How is that, Mister Muskerry? MUSKERRY He sent Myles Gorman to his own life. He's a man who went his own way always; a man who never had any family nor any affairs; a man far different from me, Christy Clarke. I was always in the middle of affairs. Then, too, I busied myself about other people. It was for the best, I think; but that's finished. On the desk under your hand is a letter, and I want you to bring it to me. CHRISTY _(going through papers idly)_ "I am much obliged for your favour--" MUSKERRY That's not it. CHRISTY _(reading another letter)_ "I am about to add to the obligations under which I stand to you, by recommending to your notice my grandson, Albert Crilly--" MUSKERRY That's the letter. It's the last of its kind. Bring it to me. _(Christy Clarke brings over the letter)_ There comes a turn in the blood and a turn in the mind, Christy. This while back I've been going out to the country instead of into the town, and coming back here in the evenings I've seen the workhouse with the big wall around it, and the big gate going into it, and I've said to myself that Thomas Muskerry ought to be as secure and contented here as if he was in his own castle. CHRISTY And so you ought, Mister Muskerry. MUSKERRY Look round at the office, Christy. I've made it as fit for me as the nest for the wren. I'll spend a few more years here, and then I'll go out on pension. I won't live in the town, I've seen a place in the country I'd like, and the people will be leaving it in a year or two. CHRISTY Where is it, Mister Muskerry? MUSKERRY I'll say no more about it now, but it's not far from this, and its near the place, where I was reared. CHRISTY And so you'll go back to your own place?