MCCREADY (_to himself_). Ach. She only torments me.
DANIEL (_looking over wonderingly_). Eh? People behave strangely sometimes, Andy. Very strangely. (MCCREADY _makes no response, but sits with his back to the two of them._) Just a moment, Andy. What about a wee drink. Eh, Andy?
ANDY. Aye. Well, I wouldn't mind at all, Daniel.
DANIEL. Just to show there's no ill-feeling over this unfortunate business. (_He goes to the clock, opens the panel door and takes out a bottle of whiskey, gets glasses from the dresser and pours out a small portion of whiskey into each._) Good health, Andy.
ANDY. Good health, Daniel. (_They drink._)
DANIEL. Now to go on with our business. I don't think, in the first case, that this was an affaire de coeur, as the Frenchmen say.
DANIEL. You don't understand French? Of course not. No. It wasn't a love affair, I mean. I don't think Sarah was in love with John, was she?
ANDY (_hesitatingly_). Well--indeed, now, I don't know that she was.
DANIEL. No. We're all aware of that. He was just what we'd call a likely man. That's all.
ANDY. Aye. He would have been a good match for her.
DANIEL. Yes. Quite so, Andy. He would have 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?
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. 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.
