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the end is come. May the Almighty God have mercy on Bartley’s soul, and

on Michael’s soul, and on the souls of Sheamus and Patch, and Stephen and Shawn (bending her head); and may He have mercy on my soul, Nora, and on the soul of every one is left living in the world.


She pauses, and the keen rises a little more loudly from the women, then sinks away.

MAURYA.

Continuing.—Michael has a clean burial in the far north, by the grace of the Almighty God. Bartley will have a fine coffin out of the white boards, and a deep grave surely. What more can we want than that? No man at all can be living for ever, and we must be satisfied.


She kneels down again and the curtain falls slowly.


This work was published before January 1, 1927, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.

 
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