DAVID. Aye. That's why.
(There is a pause. The old man picks up his paper again and settles his glasses on his nose. JOHN rises, and with a spill from the mantelpiece lights the gas there, which he then bends to throw the light to the old man's advantage.)
DAVID. Thank ye, John. Do ye hear him?
JOHN (erect on hearth-rug). Who?
DAVID. Wee Alexander.
JOHN. No.
DAVID. Greetin' his heart out.
JOHN. Och, he's no greetin'. Lizzie's wi' him.
DAVID. I ken fine Lizzie's wi' him, but he's greetin' for a' her. He was wantin' to hear yon story o' the kelpies up to Cross Hill wi' the tram—(Breaking his mood impatiently) Och.
JOHN (crossing to table and lighting up there). It's gettin' dark gey early. We'll shin be haein' tea by the gas.