thing she can't keep herself two days without looking on my face?

TIMMY -- [jeeringly.] -- Looking on your face is it? And she after going
by with her head turned the way you'd see a priest going where there'd
be a drunken man in the side ditch talking with a girl. (Martin Doul
gets up and goes to corner of forge, and looks out left.) Come back here
and don't mind her at all. Come back here, I'm saying, you've no call
to be spying behind her since she went off, and left you, in place of
breaking her heart, trying to keep you in the decency of clothes and
food.

MARTIN DOUL -- [crying out indignantly.] -- You know rightly, Timmy, it
was myself drove her away.

TIMMY. That's a lie you're telling, yet it's little I care which one of
you was driving the other, and let you walk back here, I'm saying, to
your work.

MARTIN DOUL -- [turning round.] -- I'm coming, surely.

[He stops and looks out right, going a step or two towards centre.]

TIMMY. On what is it you're gaping, Martin Doul?

MARTIN DOUL. There's a person walking above.... It's Molly Byrne, I'm
thinking, coming down with her can.

TIMMY. If she is itself let you not be idling this day, or minding her
at all, and let you hurry with them sticks, for I'll want you in a short
while to be blowing in the forge. [He throws down pot-hooks.]

MARTIN DOUL -- [crying out.] -- Is it roasting me now you'd be? (Turns
back and sees pot-hooks; he takes them up.) Pot-hooks? Is it over them
you've been inside sneezing and sweating since the dawn of day?

TIMMY -- [resting himself on anvil, with satisfaction.] -- I'm making
a power of things you do have when you're settling with a wife, Martin
Doul; for I heard tell last night the Saint'll be passing again in a
short while, and I'd have him wed Molly with myself.... He'd do it, I've
heard them say, for not a penny at all.

MARTIN DOUL -- [lays down hooks and looks at him steadily.] -- Molly'll
be saying great praises now to the Almighty God and He giving her a
fine, stout, hardy man the like of you.

TIMMY -- [uneasily.] -- And why wouldn't she, if she's a fine woman
itself?

MARTIN DOUL -- [looking up right.] -- Why wouldn't she, indeed,
Timmy?.... The Almighty God's made a fine match in the two of you, for
if you went marrying a woman was the like of yourself you'd be having
the fearfullest little children, I'm thinking, was ever seen in the
world.

TIMMY -- [seriously offended.] -- God forgive you! if you're an