They just looked and looked at each other without a word.
Like months it seemed.

They looked, and looked, as though they was tryin' to read some story in each other's eyes, and then she give a kind of joyful moan, and intil his arms she went like a nestlin' bird.
"He raised up her head, and-well, now, y'r anner, I niver saw anything I liked better.

There niver had been a girl in his life, and there niver was a man in hers--not one that mattered, till they two took up with each other, and it's a thing--well, y'r anner, I'd be a proud man if I could write it down.

It's a story that'd take its place beside the ancient ones." The Young Doctor looked at Patsy meditatively.

"Patsy," said he, "the difference between the north and the south of Ireland is that in the south they are all poets--" He paused.
"Well, you haven't finished, y 'r anner," said Kernaghan.
"And in the north they think they are," continued the Young Doctor.
"I'd like to see those two as your eyes in front of your mind saw them, Patsy." "Aw, well then, you couldn't do it, Doctor dear, for you've niver been in love.