out on the schooners, hookers, trawlers is sailing the sea, and I thinking on
the gallant hairy fellows are drifting beyond, and myself long years living
alone.

CHRISTY -- [interested.] You're like me, so.

WIDOW QUIN. I am your like, and it's for that I'm taking a fancy to you, and
I with my little houseen above where there'd be myself to tend you, and none
to ask were you a murderer or what at all.

CHRISTY. And what would I be doing if I left Pegeen?

WIDOW QUIN. I've nice jobs you could be doing, gathering shells to make a
whitewash for our hut within, building up a little goose-house, or stretching
a new skin on an old curragh I have, and if my hut is far from all sides, it's
there you'll meet the wisest old men, I tell you, at the corner of my wheel,
and it's there yourself and me will have great times whispering and hugging. .
. .

VOICES -- [outside, calling far away.] -- Christy! Christy Mahon! Christy!

CHRISTY. Is it Pegeen Mike?

WIDOW QUIN. It's the young girls, I'm thinking, coming to bring you to the
sports below, and what is it you'll have me to tell them now?

CHRISTY. Aid me for to win Pegeen. It's herself only that I'm seeking now.
(Widow Quin gets up and goes to window.) Aid me for to win her, and I'll be
asking God to stretch a hand to you in the hour of death, and lead you short
cuts through the Meadows of Ease, and up the floor of Heaven to the Footstool