"It wouldn't if the ages was the other way round ... you twenty-two and me nineteen!"
"It doesn't matter what way they are. It's not age that matters: it's feeling!"
"You'll feel different, mebbe, when you're a bit older. What would people say if I was to marry you now, after meeting you a couple of times, and you four years younger nor me?"
"It doesn't matter what they'd say," he replied. "Sure, people are always saying something!"
She ruminated! "I like going out with you well enough, and you're a queer, nice wee fellow, but it's foolish talk to be talking of getting married. What trade are you at?"
"I'm a monitor," he answered. "I'm in my last year!..."
"I'm a monitor," he replied, insisting on his status.
"Och, sure that's only learning. When in the earthly world would you be able to keep a wife?"
She looked at him admiringly. "How much did you get for it?" she asked.
"I didn't get anything for it," he replied. "They wouldn't take it!"
She remained silent for a few moments. Then she said, "Your prospects aren't very bright!"
"But they'll get brighter," he said. "They will. I tell you they will!"
"Some day may be a long day in coming," she went on. "I might have to wait a good while before you were able to marry me. Five or six years, mebbe, and then I'd be getting on to thirty, John. You'd better be looking out for a younger girl nor me!"
"I don't want anybody else but you," he replied.
When the play was over, they walked arm in arm towards the restaurant where she was employed. "I promised Mrs. Bothwell we'd have our tea there," Maggie said to John. "It put her in a sweet temper, the thought of having two customers for certain. She'll mebbe give up that place. It's not paying her well. She wasn't going to give me the time off at first, but I told you were my cousin up from the country for the day!..."
"But I'm not your cousin," John objected.
"That doesn't matter. Sure, you have to tell a wee bit of a lie now and again, or you'd never get your way at all. And it saves bother and explaining!"
They crossed High Street and were soon at the foot of the stairs leading up to Bothwell's Restaurant. "Mind," said Maggie in a whisper, "you're my cousin!"
He did not speak, but followed her up the stairs and into the restaurant where she introduced him to a plain, stoutly-built, but cheerless woman who came from the small room into the large one as they entered it. There was one customer in the room, but he finished his tea and departed soon after Maggie and John arrived. In a little while, she and he were eating their meal. John politely asked Mrs. Bothwell to join them, but she declined.