her ear and
thumbs it wrapt in thought.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Looking contemptuously at her and then
rising.]

You just stay here a second till I fix the tay.

[She goes into room. Jane remains seated
where she is, occasionally touching the
strings and seemingly deep in thought.
Robbie John passes window. He looks
in and then goes quickly to door and
enters.]

ROBBIE JOHN.

Who's that fiddlin'?

[Goes over to Jane.]

Why it's you. I heard you were come.

JANE.

Yes. I'm just in a minute or two.

[He sits down beside her.]

Robbie.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Well?

JANE.

Answer me one question. Aren't you a very poor farmer?

ROBBIE JOHN.

Well--I--I suppose I am.

JANE.

I knew you were. You're no good for selling cattle or going to market,
or looking after crops.

ROBBIE JOHN.

You're very hard Jane to-night. What's put all that into your wee
head?

JANE.

I've been listening to this and its been tellin' stories on you.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Aye and when its hangin' there dumb its speakin' to me, callin' to me.
Don't think I'm mad Jane but I can't stand it much longer. What makes
them hang it there to temp' me? Why? Just because they think they can
make a few miserable pounds, they'll keep it there makin' me a liar,
a pledge breaker, a man who can't keep his promise. I'll end it now.
I'll smash it.

[He makes to take the fiddle out of her
hands.]

JANE.

[Resisting.]

No. No. I want to say--I want to ask something Robbie. What does it
say to you?

ROBBIE JOHN.

What does it--Ach--I wonder would you laugh at me like the rest if I
told you.

JANE.

[Sitting closer and putting her arm about
his neck.]

What does it say. Tell me. _I_ would never laugh at you Robbie dear.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Hesitatingly.]

Ach--about--about takin' it and makin' a name for myself with it.