Western World: Act ii
CHRISTY, wildly.
Where'll I hide my poor body from that ghost of hell?
The door is pushed open, and old Mahon appears on threshold. Christy darts in behind door.
WIDOW QUIN, in great amazement.
God save you, my poor man.
MAHON, gruffly.
Did you see a young lad passing this way in the early morning or the fall of night?
WIDOW QUIN.
You're a queer kind to walk in not saluting at all.
MAHON.
Did you see the young lad?
WIDOW QUIN, stiffly.
What kind was he?
MAHON.
An ugly young streeler with a murderous gob on him, and a little switch in his hand. I met
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