He laughed to himself at the thought of doing such a thing.

Was he to spend his life fishing mackerel round the rocky islands of Connemara, when he might be fighting like one of the ancient heroes, giving his strength, perhaps his life, for a great cause?
The priest met him at the presbytery door.
'Come in, Mr.Conneally--come in and sit down.

I was expecting you these two days.

What were you doing at all, walking away there along the rocks by yourself?
The people were beginning to say that you were getting to be like your poor father, and that nobody'd ever get any good out of you.

But I knew you'd come back to me here.