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[Confidentially.] And good cause I have to remember it—that time when he was paying his addresses to you. [She sits down beside : in a lower voice.] Do you know that he used to tell me all about you and nothing to his mother, God rest her soul? Your letters and all.

What? My letters to him?

[Delighted.] Yes. I can see him sitting on the kitchen table, swinging his legs and spinning out of him yards of talk about you and him and Ireland and all kinds of devilment—to an ignorant old woman like me. But that was always his way. But if he had to meet a grand highup person he'd be twice as grand himself. [Suddenly looks at .] Is it crying you are now? Ah, sure, don't cry. There's good times coming still.

No, Brigid, that time comes only once in a lifetime. The rest of life is good for nothing except to remember that time.

[Is silent for a moment: then says kindly.] Would you like a cup of tea, ma'am? That would make you all right.

Yes, I would. But the milkman has not come yet.

No. Master Archie told me to wake him before he came. He's going out for a jaunt in the car. But I've