PEGEEN.
It's queer joys they have, and who knows the thing they'd do, if it'd make the green stones cry itself to think of you swaying and swiggling at the butt of a rope, and you with a fine, stout neck, God bless you! the way you'd be a half an hour, in great anguish, getting your death.
CHRISTY, getting his boots and putting them on.
If there's that terror of them, it'd be best, maybe, I went on wandering like Esau or Cain and Abel on the sides of Neifin or the Erris plain.
PEGEEN, beginning to play with him.
It would, maybe, for I've heard the Circuit Judges this place is a heartless crew.
CHRISTY, bitterly.
It's more than Judges this place is a heartless crew. (Looking up at her.) And isn't it a poor thing to be starting again and I a lonesome fellow will be looking out on women and girls the way the needy fallen spirits do be looking on the Lord?
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