CHRISTY. _looking round with satisfaction._—It’s a nice room, and if it’s not humbugging me you are, I’m thinking that I’ll surely stay. JIMMY. _jumps up._—Now, by the grace of God, herself will be safe this night, with a man killed his father holding danger from the door, and let you come on, Michael James, or they’ll have the best stuff drunk at the wake. MICHAEL. _going to the door with men._—And begging your pardon, mister, what name will we call you, for we’d like to know? CHRISTY. Christopher Mahon. MICHAEL. Well, God bless you, Christy, and a good rest till we meet again when the sun’ll be rising to the noon of day. CHRISTY. God bless you all. MEN. God bless you. [_They go out except Shawn, who lingers at door._] SHAWN. _to Pegeen._—Are you wanting me to stop along with you and keep you from harm? PEGEEN. _gruffly._—Didn’t you say you were fearing Father Reilly? SHAWN. There’d be no harm staying now, I’m thinking, and himself in it too. PEGEEN. You wouldn’t stay when there was need for you, and let you step off nimble this time when there’s none. SHAWN. Didn’t I say it was Father Reilly.... PEGEEN. Go on, then, to Father Reilly (_in a jeering tone_), and let him put you in the holy brotherhoods, and leave that lad to me. SHAWN. If I meet the Widow Quin.... PEGEEN. Go on, I’m saying, and don’t be waking this place with your noise. (_She hustles him out and bolts the door._) That lad would wear the spirits from the saints of peace. (_Bustles about, then takes off her apron and pins it up in the window as a blind. Christy watching her timidly. Then she comes to him and speaks with bland good-humour._) Let you stretch out now by the fire, young fellow. You should be destroyed travelling. CHRISTY. _shyly again, drawing off his boots._—I’m tired, surely, walking wild eleven days, and waking fearful in the night. [_He holds up one of his feet, feeling his blisters, and looking at them with compassion._] PEGEEN. _standing beside him, watching him with delight._—You should have had great people in your family, I’m thinking, with the little, small feet you have, and you with a kind of a quality name, the like of what you’d find on the great powers and potentates of France and Spain. CHRISTY. _with pride._—We were great surely, with wide and windy acres of rich Munster land. PEGEEN. Wasn’t I telling you, and you a fine, handsome young fellow with a noble brow? CHRISTY. _with a flash of delighted surprise._—Is it me? PEGEEN. Aye. Did you never hear that from the young girls where you come from in the west or south? CHRISTY. _with venom._—I did not then. Oh, they’re bloody liars in the naked parish where I grew a man. PEGEEN. If they are itself, you’ve heard it these days, I’m thinking, and you walking the world telling out your story to young girls or old.