He saw young Clio Kelly and Kit McMahon, arm-in-arm, practising the steps of some fance along the footpath, oblivious to anyone else. It only seemed a few months since those two had skipping ropes, and here they were getting ready for the ballroom. They were twelve, the same age as Philip - an unsettled age.
And as he watched, he saw Mother Bernard from the convent walking in a stately manner, accompanied by one of the younger nuns. Her face was one line of disapproval. Even in the holidays, her charge should not behave like that, treating the public road as a place of silly dancing. They sensed her coming, and changed their antics rapidly.
Dan smiled to himself at the contrite appearance of the two rascals. He would like to have had a daugther, but his wife was not well enough to face another pregnancy after Philip was born.
"Haven't we the son? Isn't that enough for you?" Mildred had said. As there were going to be no more children, there was no more lovemaking. That was obvious, Mildren had said. Dan O'Brien sighed, as he often did. Imagine being a man with a normal married life, like... well, like anyone really.
His eye fell on Marin McMahon, crosing the road to Sullivan Motors. A man with a spring in his step and a very attractive wife. Imagine being able to take a woman like Helen McMahon upstairs and draw the curtains and.... Dan decided not to think about it any more. It was too frustrating.
Mother Bernard and Brother Healy were discussing the autumn retreat. Sometimes the priests who came to do the Mission weren't at all suitable to face the children in a school. But this year they heard that there was a very famous priest coming to Lough Glass, a Father John, who gave sermons that were attended by hundreds of people at a time. They travelled to hear him, or that's what Father Baily had told them.