Source Text: JUNO3.1Mrs. Boyle: An' has Bentham never even written to you since -- not one line for the past month?
Mary: Not even a line, mother.
Mrs. Boyle: That's very curious -- What came between the two of yous at all? To leave you so sudden, an' yous so great together -- To go away t' England, an' not to even leave you his address -- The way he was always bringin' you to dances, I thought he was mad afther you. Are you sure you said nothin' to him?
Mary: No, mother -- at least nothing that could possibly explain his givin' me up.
Mrs. Boyle: You know you're a bit hasty at times, Mary, an' say things you shouldn't say.
Mary: I never said to him what I shouldn't say, I'm sure of that.
Mrs. Boyle: How are you sure of it?
Mary: Because I love him with all my heart and soul, mother. Why, I don't know; I often thought to myself that he wasn't the man poor Jerry was, but I couldn't help loving him all the same.
Mrs. Boyle: But you shouldn't be frettin' the way you are; when a woman loses a man, she never knows what she's afther losin', to be sure, but, then, she never knows what she's afther gainin', either. You're not the one girl of a month ago -- you look like one pinin' away. It's long ago I had a right to bring you to the doctor, instead of waitin' till to-night.
Mary: There's no necessity, really, mother, to go to the doctor; nothing serious is wrong with me -- I'm run down and disappointed, that's all.
Mrs. Boyle: I'll not wait another minute; I don't like the look of you at all -- I'm afraid we made a mistake in throwin' over poor Jerry -- He'd have been betther for you than that Bentham.
Mary: Mother, the best man for a woman is the one for whom she has the most love, and Charlie had it all.
Mrs. Boyle: Well, there's one thing to be said for him -- he couldn't have been thinkin' of the money, or he wouldn't ha' left you -- it must ha' been somethin' else.
Mary: I don't know -- I don't know, mother, -- only I think...
Mrs. Boyle: What d'ye think?
Mary: I imagine -- he thought -- we weren't -- good enough for him.
Mrs. Boyle: An' what was he himself, only a school teacher? Though I don't blame him for fightin' shy of people like that Joxer fella an' that oul' Madigan wan -- nice sort o' people for your father to inthroduce to a man like Mr. Bentham. You might have told me all about this before now, Mary; I don't know why you like to hide everything from your mother; you knew Bentham, an' I'd ha' known nothin' about it if it hadn't bin for the Will; an' it was only to-day, afther long coaxin', that you let out that he's left you.
Mary: It would have been useless to tell you -- you wouldn't understand.
Mrs. Boyle: Maybe not -- Maybe I wouldn't understand -- Well, we'll be off now.
Mrs. Boyle: We're goin' now to the doctor's. Are you goin' to get up this evenin'?
Boyle: The pains in me legs is terrible! It's me should be poppin' off to the doctor instead o' Mary, the way I feel.
Mrs. Boyle: Sorra mend you! A nice way you were in last night -- carried in in a frog's march, dead to the world. It that's the way you'll go on when you get the money it'll be the grave for you, an asylum for me and the Poorhouse for Johnny.
Boyle: I thought you were goin'?
Mrs. Boyle: That's what has you as you are -- you can't bear to be spoken to. Knowin' the way we are, up to our ears in debt, it's a wondher you wouldn't ha' got up to go to th' solicitor's an' see if we could ha' gotten a little o' the money even.
Boyle: I can't be goin' up there night, noon an' mornin', can I? He can't give the money till he gets it, can he? I can't get blood out of a turnip, can I?
Mrs. Boyle: It's nearly two months since we heard of the Will, an' the money seems as far off as ever -- I suppose you know we owe twenty pouns to oul' Murphy?
Boyle: I've a faint recollection of you tellin' me that before.
Mrs. Boyle: Well, you'll go over to the shop yourself for the things in future -- I'll face him no more.
Boyle: I thought you said you were goin'?
Mrs. Boyle: I'm goin' now; come on, Mary.
Boyle: Ey, Juno, ey!
Mrs. Boyle: Well, what d'ye want now?
Boyle: Is there e'er a bottle o' stout left?
Mrs. Boyle: There's two o' them here still.
Boyle: Show us in one o' them an' leave t'other there till I get up. An' throw us in the paper that's on the table, an' the bottle o' Sloan's Liniment that's in the drawer.
Mrs. Boyle: What paper is it you want -- the Messenger?
Boyle: Messenger! The News o' the World!
Mrs. Boyle: Mind the candle, now, an' don't burn the house over our heads. I left t'other bottle o' stout on the table.