The suburb in which she lived was about a twenty-minute bus ride from the center of the city, but she seldom made the journey except for a special reason. The bus run came to an end at the near side of the Liffey, and she was glad of that, because it gave her an excuse to walk across the bridge and get a look at the river. There were crowds of people about. Mrs. Derdon was wearing black laced shoes that she had polished before leaving the house, and the soles were so thin that she was made aware of the hard pavement at every step. Being still a countrywoman, she was accustomed to clearer streams, but she still was anxious for a sight of the dark forceful Liffey in her high bed. As she walked across, feeling the cold push of the wind on her face, she spotted the man with the crooked hand, stealing along near the parapet, guarding his hand before him. As they came face to face, he raised his eyes and saw her. At the sight of her, his face expressed such surprise and welcome that she put out her hand and began to speak to him, but he recovered himself and touched his cap and passed her by. She continued on, and a few seconds later turned to look for his back in the crowd, but he had disappeared. She stepped out of the stream of people and looked searchingly all the length of the bridge, but he had really gone. She thought he must have been in an extraordinary hurry, to get out of sight so fast.

Going home on the bus, she thought with satisfaction that the encounter on the bridge would give her the chance she had been looking for, to strike up a conversation with him. She made up a dialogue between them:

SHE: I saw you on the bridge the other day.

HE: Yes. I saw you, too. I would have spoken, but you seemed to be in a hurry. How strange that we should meet.

SHE: Not at all. It’s a small world.

Or she might say:

“You’ve been coming to the door a good many years now.”

No, that would never do. He might think it was a hint to stay away. She might take a joking tone, asking him what was the great hurry he was in on the bridge. Well, the words would present themselves when the time came.