Once, shortly after she and Martin were married, shortly after they moved to Dublin, she had wanted to get material for curtains for the back bedroom, which was still unfurnished then, because there were only the two of them in the house. Martin said he had heard of a good shop, and he volunteered to go with her, and he said, she remembered very well, that he would take her there and see that she had someone to wait on her but that then he would have to leave her, because he had an appointment. But when they got to the shop, he didn’t leave her. He stayed and watched while the man behind the counter showed her what they had in the way of cretonne. The man behind the counter gave Mrs. Bagot a chair, but Martin refused to sit down. “I feel like a bull in a china shop,” he said, “but at least I needn’t be a sitting bull.” They all laughed, and a woman standing nearby waiting for her parcel to be wrapped laughed and smiled at Mrs. Bagot, and the man behind the counter winked at Mrs. Bagot and said, “That is a witty man you have there, Mrs.…” And she had said “Mrs. Bagot,” in such a high voice that Martin burst out laughing and said to the man behind the counter, “She’s still surprised at her new name.” And then Martin said, “We’re only four months married,” and he spoke so proudly that even she could see his pride, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him — she looked at him, she gave him the same devoted, desperate look that Bennie always gave to her.