A glimmer of light in the shanty windows told Deirdre that Steve had lighted up. He came to the door.
"Conal's late, Deirdre?" he called.
"Yes," she replied.
She stood there quite still staring down the road.
"What do you think can have kept him?"
Steve had come out and was standing beside her.
Her face was very wan to his old eyes; her dark hair blew in tendrils about it.
"I—don't know!"
She saw the anxiety start in his eyes.
"Oh, it's all right!" She took his arm and they went towards the house again.