The loose gutter in the east gable pounded, then rain struck the windows and battered the galvanize. Thady lifted his hand to his eyes and yawned. Then, incongruously, farted.

“It’s the breakfast,” he apologized.

“You should try baby food,” said Catherine, and then she added, “and you could administer it to yourself with a spoon.”

“Glory be!” said Thady. “Is that the recipe?”

The cats returned and leapt onto the two beds in which the men lay, and nestling, looked across at each other as they stretched stiff paws. There was no sound when the wind died away except the rain hitting the flames and the drip now and then from the steaming clothes. Catherine felt a draught blow round her groin. She drew her kilt tighter about her. The pin flashed. Thady broke into a fit of coughing, spat somewhere and said: “That’ll be the size of it.”

“I have you now,” said Catherine.

“You have what?” asked Jack.

“What you look like,” and she laughed. “You look like a vole.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a sort of a small rodent.”

“That,” said Thady, “don’t you know, would be a class of a rat.”

“It must be three years since I’ve seen you.”

“That’s right.”

“The last time I was here I woke to find a goat tied to our door,” said Catherine. Jack chuckled. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“The gentleman goat,” mused Thady, “is a rascal. He can disgrace himself. He’ll tip his head and drink his own urine.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes, the blaggard.”

She threw some turf on the fire. Thady’s black eyebrows rose, and his tongue darted out. “Yes,” he said, “keep her going,” and he reached out for the bottle. He filled their glasses, then his cup. “I spend my last penny – the bit I have – on this,” he said. He drank with a series of dislocated movements of the face and hands, squinted, feinted, then bared his teeth, and finally, with a shake of the head, clapped his lips together again.

Silence returned. The wind shifted.

“You tied that goat to our door,” she said.

“I did,” said Jack.

“Whatever for?”

“It’s the Leitrim twist of mind, Missus,” said Thady. “They got scholarship in Leitrim.”

“That’s lovely,” said Catherine.

“We are only passing the time, tá,” said Thady.

“It often seems to me that I am only indulging myself.” Catherine was thinking aloud. She offered her glass. “And I often feel that I couldn’t care if I never saw anyone again.”

“You should not say that,” said Jack.

“A woman can say these things,” Thady declared. He refilled her glass. “I think, will you excuse me, that I have to go to the toilet.”