(Exit. A moment later the OLD MAN comes in.)

OLD MAN. It was no angel after all.

MOTHER. No good angel, certainly.

OLD MAN. Really! (Pause.) You know how superstitious people here
are. As I went down to the river I heard this: a farmer said his
horse shied at 'him'; another that the dogs got so fierce he'd had
to tie them up. The ferryman swore his boat drew less water when
'he' got in. Superstition, but. ...

MOTHER. But what?

OLD MAN. It was only a magpie that flew in at her window, though it
was closed. An illusion, perhaps.

MOTHER. Perhaps. But why does one often see such things at the
right time?

OLD MAN. This man's presence is intolerable. When he looks at me I
can't breathe.

MOTHER. We must try to get rid of him. I'm certain he won't care to
stay for long.

OLD MAN. No. He won't grow old here. (Pause.) Listen, I got a
letter to-night warning me about him. Among other things he's
wanted by the courts.