Anne. I'll be watching the girls coming in, and thinking on yourself;
there's none of them your match for grace and favour. My father
wanted me to see a girl in Arvach. She has three hundred pounds,
besides what the priest, her uncle, will leave her. "Father," says I,
"listen to me now. Haven't I always worked for you like a steady,
useful boy?" "You have," says he. "Did I ever ask you for anything
unreasonable?" says I. "No," says he. "Well then," says I, "don't
ask me to do unreasonable things. I'm fond of Anne Hourican, and not
another girl will I marry. What's money, after all?" says I,
"there's gold on the whin-bushes if you only knew it." And he had to
leave it at that.

ANNE
You always bring people around.

JAMES
The quiet, reasonable way is the way that people like.

ANNE
Still, with all, I'm shy of going into your house.

JAMES
Don't doubt but there'll be a welcome before you; come round
with Maire.

_Anne rises, and comes to him. She has graceful, bird-like movements._

ANNE
_(putting her hands on James' shoulders)_ Maybe we won't have a
chance of seeing each other after all.

_James Moynihan kisses her reverently_

JAMES
Sit down now, Anne, because there's something I want to show
you. Do you ever see "The Shamrock"?

ANNE
Very seldom.

_James and Anne go to the settle; they sit down_.

JAMES
There be good pieces in it sometimes. There's a poem of mine
in it this week.

ANNE
Of yours, James? Printed, do you mean?

JAMES
Ay, printed. _(He takes a paper out of his pocket, and opens it)_
It's a poem to yourself, though your name doesn't come into it.
_(Gives paper)_ Let no one see it, Anne, at least not for the present.
And now, good-bye.

_Goes to the door. Anne continues reading the verse eagerly. At the
door James turns and recites_:--

When lights are failing, and skies are paling,
And leaves are sailing a-down the air,
O, it's then that love lifts my heart above
My roving thoughts and my petty care;
And though the gloom be like the tomb,
Where there's no room for my love and me,
O, still I'll find you, and still I'll bind you,
My wild sweet rose of Aughnalee!

That's the first stanza. Good-bye.

_James goes out. Anne continues reading, then she leaves the paper
down with a sigh_.

ANNE
O, it's lovely! _(She takes the paper up again, rises and goes
to the door. She remains looking out. Some one speaks to her)_ No,
Br