f, and she a dirty, wrinkled-looking hag, was better
maybe to be sitting along with than no one at all. I'll be getting my
death now, I'm thinking, sitting alone in the cold air, hearing the
night coming, and the blackbirds flying round in the briars crying to
themselves, the time you'll hear one cart getting off a long way in the
east, and another cart getting off a long way in the west, and a dog
barking maybe, and a little wind turning the sticks. (He listens and
sighs heavily.) I'll be destroyed sitting alone and losing my senses
this time the way I'm after losing my sight, for it'd make any person
afeard to be sitting up hearing the sound of his breath -- (he moves his
feet on the stones) -- and the noise of his feet, when it's a power
of queer things do be stirring, little sticks breaking, and the grass
moving -- (Mary Doul half sighs, and he turns on her in horror) -- till
you'd take your dying oath on sun and moon a thing was breathing on the
stones. (He listens towards her for a moment, then starts up nervously,
and gropes about for his stick.) I'll be going now, I'm thinking, but
I'm not sure what place my stick's in, and I'm destroyed with terror
and dread. (He touches her face as he is groping about and cries out.)
There's a thing with a cold, living face on it sitting up at my side.
(He turns to run away, but misses his path and stumbles in against the
wall.) My road is lost on me now! Oh, merciful God, set my foot on the
path this day, and I'll be saying prayers morning and night, and not
straining my ear after young girls, or doing any bad thing till I die.

MARY DOUL -- [indignantly.] -- Let you not be telling lies to the
Almighty God.

MARTIN DOUL. Mary Doul, is it? (Recovering himself with immense relief.)
Is it Mary Doul, I'm saying?

MARY DOUL. There's a sweet tone in your voice I've not heard for a
space. You're taking me for Molly Byrne, I'm thinking.

MARTIN DOUL -- [coming towards her, wiping sweat from his face.] --
Well, sight's a queer thing for upsetting a man. It's a queer thing to
think I'd live to this day to be fearing the like of you; but if it's
shaken I am for a short while, I'll soon be coming to myself.

MARY DOUL. You'll be grand then, and it's no lie.

MARTIN DOUL -- [sitting down shyly, some way off.] -- You've no call to
be talking, for I've heard tell you're as blind as myself.

MARY DOUL. If I am I'm bearing in mind I'm married to a little dark
stump of a fellow looks th