“Ay, Gloom Achanna, for I have but to scream and Sheumais will be here, an’ he would kill you like a dog if he knew you did me harm.”
“Ah, but if there were no James, or any man, to come between me an’ my will!”
“Then there would be a woman! Ay, if you overbore me I would strangle you with my hair, or fix my teeth in your false throat!”
“I was not for knowing you were such a wild-cat! But I’ll tame you yet, my lass! Aha, wild-cat!” and, as he spoke, he laughed low.
“It is a true word, Gloom of the black heart. I am a wild-cat, and like a wild-cat I am not to be seized by a fox, and that you will be finding to your cost, by the holy St Bridget! But now, off with you, brother of my man!”
“Your man … ha! ha!…”
“Why do you laugh?”
“Sure, I am laughing at a warm white lass like yourself having a dead man as your lover!”
“A … dead … man?”