They reached the windows leading into the now famous—to Peg—living-room. He held out his hand:
"Good night, Peg."
"What a hurry ye are in to get rid o' me. An' a night like this may never come again."
Suddenly a quick flash of jealousy startled through her:
"Are ye goin' back to the dance? Are ye goin' to dance the extra ones ye wouldn't take me back for?"
"Not if you don't wish me to."
"Plaze don't," she pleaded earnestly. "I wouldn't rest aisy if I thought of you with yer arm around one of those fine ladies' waists, as it was around mine such a little while ago—an' me all alone here. Ye won't, will ye?"
"No, Peg; I will not."
"An' will ye think o' me?"
"Yes, Peg, I will."