Myles Ah, now!
Corrig She only goes out at night.
Myles Like the owls.
Corrig She’s the misthress of Hardress Cregan.
Myles [Seizing Corrigan.] Thurra mon dhiol, what’s that?
Corrig Oh, lor! Myles—Myles—what’s the matter—are you mad?
Myles No—that is—why—why did ye raise your hand at me in that way?
Corrig I didn’t.
Myles I thought ye did—I’m mighty quick at takin’ thim hints, bein’ on me keepin’ agin the gaugers—go on—I didn’t hurt ye.