CHRISTY -- [grimly.] It's well you know what call I have. It's well you know
it's a lonesome thing to be passing small towns with the lights shining
sideways when the night is down, or going in strange places with a dog nosing
before you and a dog nosing behind, or drawn to the cities where you'd hear a
voice kissing and talking deep love in every shadow of the ditch, and you
passing on with an empty, hungry stomach failing from your heart.

PEGEEN. I'm thinking you're an odd man, Christy Mahon. The oddest walking
fellow I ever set my eyes on to this hour to-day.

CHRISTY. What would any be but odd men and they living lonesome in the world?

PEGEEN. I'm not odd, and I'm my whole life with my father only.

CHRISTY -- [with infinite admiration.] -- How would a lovely handsome woman
the like of you be lonesome when all men should be thronging around to hear
the sweetness of your voice, and the little infant children should be
pestering your steps I'm thinking, and you walking the roads.

PEGEEN. I'm hard set to know what way a coaxing fellow the like of yourself
should be lonesome either.

CHRISTY. Coaxing?

PEGEEN. Would you have me think a man never talked with the girls would have
the words you've spoken to-day? It's only letting on you are to be lonesome,
the way you'd get around me now.

CHRISTY. I wish to God I was letting on; but I was lonesome all times, and
born lonesome, I'm thinking, as the moon of dawn. [Going to door.]