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he ribbons to change when her things came home from the wash and there were some beautiful thoughts written in it in violet ink that she bought in Hely's of Dame Street for she felt that she too could write poetry if she could only express herself like that poem that appealed to her so deeply that she had copied out of the newspaper she found one evening round the potherbs。 Art thou real； my ideal？ it was called by Louis J。 Walsh； Magherafelt； and after there was something about twilight； wilt thou ever？ and ofttimes the beauty of poetry； so sad in its transient loveliness； had misted her eyes with silent tears that the years were slipping by for her； one by one； and but for that one shorting she knew she need fear no petition and that was an accident ing down Dalkey hill and she always tried to conceal it。 But it must end she felt。 If she saw that magic lure in his eyes there would be no holding back for her。 Love laughs at locksmiths。 She would make the great sacrifice。 Her every effort would be to share his thoughts。 Dearer than the whole world would she be to him and gild his days with happiness。 There was the allimportant question and she was dying to know was he a married man or a widower who had lost his wife or some tragedy like the nobleman with the foreign name from the land of song had to have her put into a madhouse； cruel only to be kind。 But even if … what then？ Would it make a very great difference？ From everything in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively recoiled。 She loathed that sort of person； the fallen women off the acmodation walk beside the Dodder that went with the soldiers and coarse men； with no respect for a girl's honour； degrading the sex and being taken up to the police station。 No； no： not that。 They would be just good friends like a big brother and sister without all that other in spite of the conventions of Society with a big ess。 Perhaps it was an old flame he was in mourning for from the days beyond recall。 She thought she understood。 She would try to understand him because men were so different。 The old love was waiting； waiting with little white hands stretched out； with blue appealing eyes。 Heart of mine！ She would follow her dream of love； the dictates of her heart that told her he was her all in all； the only man in all the world for her for love was the master guide。 Nothing else mattered。 e what might she would be wild； untrammelled； free。
Canon O'Hanlon put the Blessed Sacrament back into the tabernacle and the choir sang Laudate Dominum omnes gentes and then he locked the tabernacle door because the benediction was over and Father Conroy handed him his hat to put on and crosscat Edy asked wasn't she ing but Jacky Caffrey called out：
O； look； Cissy！
And they all looked was it sheet lightning but Tommy saw it too over the trees beside the church； blue and then green and purple。
It's fireworks； Cissy Caffrey said。
And they all ran down the strand to see over the houses and the church； helterskelter； Edy with the pushcar with baby Boardman in it and Cissy holding Tommy and Jacky by the hand so they wouldn't fall running。
e on； Gerty； Cissy called。 It's the bazaar fireworks。
But Gerty was adamant。 She had no intention of being at their beck and call。 If they could run like rossies she could sit so she said she could see from where she was。 The eyes that were fastened upon her set her pulses tingling。 She looked at him a moment； meeting his glance； and a light broke in upon her。 Whitehot passion was in that face； passion silent as the grave； and it had made her his。 At last they were left alone without the others to pry and pass remarks and she knew he could be trusted to the death； steadfast； a sterling man； a man of inflexible honour to his fingertips。 His hands and face were working and a tremor went over her。 She leaned back far to look up where the fireworks were and she caught her knee in her hands so as not to fall back looking up and there was no one to see only him and her when she revealed all her graceful beautifully shaped legs like that； supply soft and delicately rounded； and she seemed to hear the panting of his heart； his hoarse breathing； because she knew about the passion of men like that； hot…blooded； because Bertha Supple told her once in dead secret and made her swear she'd never about the gentleman lodger that was staying with them out of the Congested Districts Board that had pictures cut out of papers of those skirtdancers and highkickers and she said he used to do something not very nice that you could imagine sometimes in the bed。 But this was altogether different from a thing like that because there was all the difference because she could almost feel him draw her face to his and the first quick hot touch of his handsome lips。 Besides there was absolution so long as you didn't do the other thing before being married and there ought to be women priests that would understand without your telling out and Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of dreamy look in her eyes so that she too； my dear； and Winny Rippingham so mad about actors' photographs and besides it was on account of that other thing ing on the way it did。
And Jacky Caffrey shouted to look； there was another and she leaned back and the garters were blue to match on account of the transparent and they all saw it and shouted to look； look there it was and she leaned back ever so far to see the fireworks and something queer was flying about through the air； a soft thing to and fro； dark。 And she saw a long Roman candle going up over the trees up； up； and； in the tense hush； they were all breathless with excitement as it went higher and higher and she had to lean back more and more to look up after it； high； high； almost out of sight； and her face was suffused with a divine； an entrancing blush from straining back and he could see her other things too； nainsook knickers； the fabric that caresses the skin； better than those other pettiwidth； the green； four and eleven； on account of being white and she let him and she saw that he saw and then it went so high it went out of sight a moment and she was trembling in every limb from being bent so far back he had a full view high up above her knee no…one ever not even on the swing or wading and she wasn't ashamed and he wasn't either to look in that immodest way like that because he couldn't resist the sight of the wondrous revealment half offered like those skirt…dancers behaving so immodest before gentlemen looking and he kept on looking； looking。 She would fain have cried to him chokingly； held out her snowy slender arms to him to e； to feel his lips laid on her white brow the cry of a young girl's love； a little strangled cry； wrung from her； that cry that has rung through the ages。 And then a rocket sprang and bang shot blind and O！ then the Roman candle burst and it was like a sigh of O！ and everyone cried O！O！ in raptures and it gushed out of it a stream of rain gold hair threads and they shed and ah！ they were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden； O so lively！ O so soft； sweet； soft！
Then all melted away dewily in the grey air： all was silent。 Ah！ She glanced at him as she bent forward quickly； a pathetic li