MOLLY BYRNE.
Middling dark.
MARTIN DOUL.
It’s a power of dirty days, and dark mornings, and shabby-looking fellows (he makes a gesture over his shoulder) we do have to be looking on when we have our sight, God help us, but there’s one fine thing we have, to be looking on a grand, white, handsome girl, the like of you.... and every time I set my eyes on you I do be blessing the saints, and the holy water, and the power of the Lord Almighty in the heavens above.
MOLLY BYRNE.
I’ve heard the priests say it isn’t looking on a young girl would teach many to be saying their prayers.
[Bailing water into her can with a cup.]
MARTIN DOUL.
It isn’t many have been the way I was, hearing your voice speaking, and not seeing you at all.
MOLLY BYRNE.
That should have been a queer time for an old, wicked, coaxing fool to be sitting there with your eyes shut, and not seeing a sight of girl or woman passing the road.
MARTIN DOUL.
If it was a queer time itself it was great joy and pride I had the time I’d hear your voice speaking and you passing to Grianan (beginning to speak with plaintive intensity), for it’s of many a fine thing your voice would put a poor dark fellow in mind, and the day I’d hear it it’s of little else at all I would be thinking.
MOLLY BYRNE.
I’ll tell your wife if you talk to me the like of that.... You’ve heard, maybe, she’s below picking nettles for the widow O’Flinn, who took great pity on her when she seen the two of you fighting, and yourself putting shame on her at the crossing of the roads.
MARTIN DOUL.
impatiently. — Is there no living person can speak a score of words to me, or say “God speed you,” itself, without putting me in mind of the old woman, or that day either at Grianan?
MOLLY BYRNE.
maliciously. — I was thinking it should be a fine thing to put you in mind of the day you called the grand day of your life.