MAIRE
Good-bye, Brian MacConnell.

BRIAN
_(at door)_ Good-bye, Maire Hourican; gold and jewels, ships
on the sea, may you have them all.

_He goes out. With a cry Maire follows him to the door. She stands
before door for a minute, then she goes back to table, and throwing
herself down, remains with her head buried in her hands. James
Moynihan comes in. Maire raises her head, and remains looking before
her. James comes to table, and puts flowers beside Maire_.

JAMES
We gathered them for you, Maire. They're the woodbine. We were
saying that you would be glad of the flower of the road. _(Maire
puts her hand on the flowers. James goes to the fire)_ Anne remembers
a good deal about the road. She minds of the grassy ditches, where
the two of you used to catch the young birds.

MAIRE
I mind of them too.

JAMES
And the women that used to be with your mother, that used to
tell you the stories.

MAIRE
And the things we used to talk about after a story! There's