(They nod as they finish and take out their pipes and sit down.  A banging is heard.)

Conan:  What disturbance is that?

(Celia comes in, her hair screwed up tight, skirt tucked up, is carrying a pail, brush, cloth, etc., lets them drop and proceeds to fasten up skirt.)

Mother:  Ah, Celia, what is on you?  I never saw you that way before.

Conan:  Ha!  Very good!  I think that you will say there is a great change come upon her, and a right change.

Celia:  Look now at the floor the way it is.

Mother:  I see no other way but the way it is always.

Celia:  There’s a bit of soot after falling down the chimney. (Picks up tongs.)

Mother: Ah, leave it now, dear, a while.

Celia:  Anything has to be done, the quickest way to do it is the best. (Having taken up soot, flings down tongs.)

Conan:  Listen to that!  Now am I able to work wonders?

Rock:  It is that you have spent on her a blast?

Conan:  If I did it was well spent.

Flannery:  I’m in dread you have been robbing the poor.

Rock:  It is myself you have robbed doing that.  You have no call to be using those blasts for your own profit!

Conan:  I have every right to bring order in my own dwelling before I can do any other thing!

Celia:  All the dust of the world’s roads is gathered in this kitchen.  The whole place ate with filth and dirt.

(Begins to sweep.)

Conan:  Ah, you needn’t hardly go as far as that.

Celia:  Anything that is worth doing is worth doing well. (To Rock.) Look now at the marks of your boots upon the ground.  Get up out of that till I’ll bustle it with the broom!

Rock:  (Getting up.) There is a change indeed and a queer change.  Where she used to be singing she is screeching the same as a slate where you’d be casting sums!

Celia:  (To Flannery.) What’s that I see in under your chair?  Rise up. (He gets up.) It’s a pin! (Sticks it in her dress.) Everything in its right place! (Goes on flicking at the furniture.)

Mother:  Leave now knocking the furniture to flitters.

Celia:  I will not, till I’ll free it from the dust and dander of the year.

Mother:  That’ll do now.  I see no dust.

Celia:  You’ll see it presently. (Sweeps up a cloud.)

Mother:  Let you speak to her, Conan.

Conan:  Leave now buzzing and banging about the room the same as a fly without a head!

Celia:  Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day.

Conan:  I tell you I have things to settle and to say before the car will come that is to bring me on my road to Dublin.