It occurred to Marsh, in the middle of his reflections on Tom Arthurs, that he should ask Henry what he proposed to do for Ireland. "I'd like to do work as big and fine as Arthurs does," he said. "Wouldn't you, Henry?" "Yes." "What _do_ you propose to do, Henry?" "I don't know. I haven't thought definitely about that sort of thing yet. I've just imagined I'd like to do _something_. I'm afraid I can't build ships!..." "There are other things besides ships, Henry!" "I know that. John, I'm going to say something that'll make you angry, but I can't help that. When Tom Arthurs was showing us over the Island, I couldn't help thinking that all that Gaelic movement was a frightful waste of time!" Marsh made a gesture, but Henry would not let him speak. "No, don't interrupt me, John," he said. "I must say what I feel. Look at the Language class at Ballymartin. What's been the good of all the work you put into it?" "We've given them a knowledge of a national separateness, haven't we?" "Have we? They were keener on the dances, John. I don't believe we've done anything of the sort, and if we had, I think it would be a pity!" "A pity! A pity to make the Irish people realise that they're Irish and different from the English!" "Oh, you won't agree, I know, John, but I think Tom Arthurs is doing better work for Ireland than you are," Henry retorted. "He's doing good work, very good work, but not better work than I am. He's establishing an Irish industry, but I'm helping to establish an Irish nation, an Irish soul!..." "That's what you want to do, but I wonder whether it's what you are doing," said Henry. They were silent for a while, and before they spoke again, the train backed into the station, and they passed through the barriers so that Marsh could secure his seat. "Well, what do _you_ propose to do for Ireland?" Marsh asked again, when he had entered his carriage. "The best I can, I suppose. I don't know yet!..." Marsh turned quickly to Henry and put his hand on his shoulder. "Henry," he said, "I hope you don't mind ... I know about Sheila Morgan and you!..." "You know?..." "Yes. I'm sorry about that. I don't think you should let it upset you!" Henry did not reply for a few moments, but sat still staring in front of him. In a sub-conscious way, he was wondering why it was that the carriages were not cleaner.... "I'm frightfully miserable, John," he said at last. "But why, Henry?" "Oh, because of everything. I don't know. I'm a fool, I suppose!" "You're not going to pieces just because you've fallen in love with a girl and it's turned out wrong? My dear Henry, that's a poor sort of a spirit!" "I know it is, but I'm a sloppy fellow!..." "This affair with Sheila Morgan is all the more reason why you should think of something big to do. I wish you were coming to Dublin with me now. Dublin's very beautiful in the summer, and we could go up into the mountains and talk about things."