OLD MAN. No.

MOTHER. Shall I give them cider?

OLD MAN. Yes. And you can light the fire; they'll be cold.

MOTHER. There's hardly time. But I will, if you wish it, Father.

OLD MAN (looking out of the window). I think you'd better.

MOTHER. What are you looking at?

OLD MAN. The river; it's rising. And I'm asking myself, as I've
done for seventy years--when I shall reach the sea.

MOTHER. You're sad to-night, Father.

OLD MAN. ... et introibo ad altare Dei: ad Deum qui laetificat
juventutem meam. Yes. I do feel sad. ... Deus, Deus meus: quare
tristis es anima mea, et quare conturbas me.

MOTHER. Spera in Deo. ...

(The Maid comes in, and signs to the MOTHER, who goes over to her.
They whisper together and the maid goes out again.)

OLD MAN. I heard what you said. O God! Must I bear that too!

MOTHER. You needn't see them. You can go up to your room.