CHRISTY, coming in as meek as a mouse, with the looking-glass held behind his back.
She's above on the cnuceen, seeking the nanny goats, the way she'd have a sup of goat's milk for to colour my tea.
SARA.
And asking your pardon, is it you's the man killed his father?
CHRISTY, sidling toward the nail where the glass was hanging.
I am, God help me!
SARA, taking eggs she has brought.
Then my thousand welcomes to you, and I've run up with a brace of duck's eggs for your food to-day. Pegeen's ducks is no use, but these are the real rich sort. Hold out your hand and you'll see it's no lie I'm telling you.
CHRISTY, coming forward shyly, and holding out his left hand.
They're a great and weighty size.
SUSAN.
And I run up with a pat of butter, for it'd be a poor thing to have you eating your spuds dry,
48
