[Exit Mrs. Cotter.  Enter the Sergeant.

SERGEANT
So you opened at last.  Well, better late than never!

MRS. COTTER I’m sorry for keepin’ you waitin’, Sergeant.  I don’t open the door for any one on Sunday nights, an’ whin you said “Police,” I thought it was one o’ the boys tryin’ to desaive me.

SERGEANT
I see!  I see!  There’s a lot o’ desaitful people in the
town, ma’am.

MRS. COTTER
There are, Sergeant.

SERGEANT
There are indeed. (Coughs) I’m sick an’ tired o’ the
place altogether.

MRS. COTTER
I thought it agreed with you.  You’re lookin’ very
well, anyway.

SERGEANT
I’m not feelin’ well at all thin. (Coughs) There’s
nothin’ more deceptive than looks at times. (Coughs)

MRS. COTTER
True.

SERGEANT ‘Tis in me bed I should be instead of troublin’ dacent people like yourself a night like this. (Coughs) But duty is duty, an’ it must be done.  If I didn’t do what I’m told, that bla’gard of a Head Constable would soon have another an’ maybe a worse man in my place.

MRS. COTTER
The Lord save us!

SERGEANT
But as herself says:  There’s no use in the Government
makin’ laws if the people don’t keep them.

MRS. COTTER
That’s so.

SERGEANT
Keepin’ the world in order is no aisy business, ma’am.

MRS. COTTER
’Tis a great responsibility.

SERGEANT (drawing a chair to the fire and sitting down) ‘Pon me word I’m tired an’ cold too.

MRS. COTTER
Wouldn’t ye go home and go to bed, Sergeant?

SERGEANT If I went to bed at this hour, the Head would send a report to his chum the Inspector, statin’ that I was drunk. (Coughs)

MRS. COTTER
That’s a bad cough.  How long is it troublin’ ye?

SERGEANT Only since supper time.  I was eatin’ a bit o’ cold meat, an’ a bone or somethin’ stuck there. (Points at his throat)

MRS. COTTER
An’ what did ye do for it?

SERGEANT
What could I do for it?

MRS. COTTER
Ye could take a drink o’ somethin’ an’ wash it down.

SERGEANT
I tried some cold tea. (Coughs)

MRS. COTTER
I wonder would a bottle of stout do any good.

SERGEANT
’Twould be no harm to try.

MRS. COTTER
Will ye have a bottle?

SERGEANT
To tell ye the truth, I don’t like bein’ disobligin’,
ma’am. (Coughs)

[Exit Mrs. Cotter.  While she is away, he walks up and down, whistling the while.

MRS. COTTER (at door)
Ye might as well come up-stairs, Sergeant.  There’s a
fine fire in the sitting-room.

SERGEANT
I’m first rate where I am.  Thank you all the same.

[Takes stout and finishes it without withdrawing it from his mouth.  Coughs.