“You told me of the pine-trees, and the glacier, and the snow—”
“And that is all.”
“But in the Valley, in the Valley, where all the miners are?”
“I cannot see them.”
“For love of heaven, don’t tell me that the dark is fallin’ on your eyes too.”
“No, Shon, I am not growing blind.”
“Will you not tell me what gives the ache to your words?”
“I see in the Valley—snow... snow.”
“It’s a laugh you have at me in your cheek, whin I’d give years of my ill-spent life to watch the chimney smoke come curlin’ up slow through the sharp air in the Valley there below.”
“There is no chimney and there is no smoke in all the Valley.”