“I hear that she’s in Glasgow,” said Murtagh Gallagher.
“Glasgow is the town to be in,” remarked Micky’s Jim, scraping the wet tobacco from the bottom of his pipe. “By the hokey! It was a great place for fightin’. One night I had seven fights hand running. A fellow named Droughty Tom was shootin’ out his neck on the Docks. ‘What are ye chewin’ the rag for, old slobber chops?’ I ups to him and says, shovin’ my fist under his nose: ‘There’s a smell of dead men off that fist,’ I said——”
“We’re sick to the bottom of the grave of hearin’ about yer fightin’, Micky’s Jim,” said Dora Doherty, who entered the shed at that moment. “D’ye know who’s out there?” she asked.
“No.”
“It’s that youngster, Morrison,” said the woman. “I saw somethin’ black in the darkness, and I thought it would be the farmer’s son.”
Norah Ryan started forward in her seat, turned round, looked at Maire a Glan, rose, and went outside.
II
SHE had not seen Morrison for close on fourteen months, and he had never written to her; but time and again she intended to post one of the letters which she spent part of her time in writing to him. But they were never posted, and often she wondered why she had written them. Why, he wouldn’t care for her, she told herself many times. He was far above her, a gentleman; she was only a poor worker, a little potato gatherer. He had never written and perhaps he did not love her one little bit. She felt angry and resentful with him, as she went out from the stuffy shed and looked up at the starlit sky.
Alec Morrison was waiting. Norah could see his dark form showing against the white gable of the byre, and could hear the crunch of his boots on the gravel as he changed his position. He had just come from Glasgow; he was working there now and he had come down to see Norah before she went back to Ireland. He had often intended to write to her but never did. Other more pressing problems, relating to a new sweetheart, a pretty little damsel in wonderful dresses and with no more morals than a bird, took up his attention. He held out his hand to Norah when she approached.
“I’m glad you’ve come out,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve been waiting here for quite a long while.”