ave been a good match for her.
(_He makes notes in a pocket book._) Nothing like notes, Andy. Now, so
much for the love part of the business. They never exchanged letters?

ANDY. No. No letters.

DANIEL (_writing_). No letters. Of course in a breach of promise
letters are a great help. A great help. I'm very glad, however, just
for your sister's sake, that she never wrote any to John. Imagine them
reading out the love letters in the open court, and all the servant
boys gaping and laughing.

ANDY. It's not nice, right enough. It's one thing I wouldn't like.

DANIEL. No. It's one thing we would not like. Well. No love. No
letters. Next thing. He never courted her?

ANDY. Well, he came over and sat in the house a few nights.

DANIEL. Yes. No doubt. But hadn't he always some message on business
to transact with you? Loan of a plough or a horse, or something like
that?

ANDY (_uneasily_). That's so, of course.

DANIEL. Ah, yes. That's so, of course.

ANDY. But I seen him with his arm round her the night of the social at
the school house.

DANIEL. Andy. That's a wee failing of John's. I often warned him about
doing that sort of thing indiscriminately. A bit of a ladies' man,
John, in his way. I saw him do the same nonsense four or five times
that night with other girls. John likes to think himself a bit of a
gay dog, you know. It's not right--I don't think myself it's a bit
proper to put your arm round a girl's waist on every occasion, but
sometimes it's quite allowable. A night like a social, for instance.

ANDY. Aye. Of course a social's different.

DANIEL. Aye, Andy, a social's different. Well, now. No love, no
letters, no courting, no photographs exchanged? (_He looks at_ ANDY
_inquiringly_). No photographs exchanged? (_He notes it down._) No
ring? In fact, Andy, no nothing.

ANDY. But he proposed to her right enough.

DANIEL. Who said so?

ANDY (_astonished_). What? Do you mean to deny he didn't?

DANIEL. My dear Andy, I don't know. There was no one there but the
two, I suppose, when he asked her--if he did ask her. There's only her
word for it.

ANDY. He wouldn't deny it himself?

DANIEL. Well. That depends on whether he really asked her to marry him
of course. And it's likely enough that John would be inclined to deny
it if his memory was at all bad--it is a bad memory he has, you know.
He forgets often to return your ploughs and that sort of thing.

ANDY (_blankly_). Aye. He has a bad memory.