[She goes into room. Jane remains seated where she is, occasionally touching the strings and seemingly deep in thought. Robbie John passes window. He looks in and then goes quickly to door and enters.] ROBBIE JOHN. Who's that fiddlin'? [Goes over to Jane.] Why it's you. I heard you were come. JANE. Yes. I'm just in a minute or two. [He sits down beside her.] Robbie. ROBBIE JOHN. Well? JANE. Answer me one question. Aren't you a very poor farmer? ROBBIE JOHN. Well--I--I suppose I am. JANE. I knew you were. You're no good for selling cattle or going to market, or looking after crops. ROBBIE JOHN. You're very hard Jane to-night. What's put all that into your wee head? JANE. I've been listening to this and its been tellin' stories on you. ROBBIE JOHN. Aye and when its hangin' there dumb its speakin' to me, callin' to me. Don't think I'm mad Jane but I can't stand it much longer. What makes them hang it there to temp' me? Why? Just because they think they can make a few miserable pounds, they'll keep it there makin' me a liar, a pledge breaker, a man who can't keep his promise. I'll end it now. I'll smash it. [He makes to take the fiddle out of her hands.] JANE. [Resisting.] No. No. I want to say--I want to ask something Robbie. What does it say to you? ROBBIE JOHN. What does it--Ach--I wonder would you laugh at me like the rest if I told you. JANE. [Sitting closer and putting her arm about his neck.] What does it say. Tell me. _I_ would never laugh at you Robbie dear. ROBBIE JOHN. [Hesitatingly.] Ach--about--about takin' it and makin' a name for myself with it. [Bitterly.] It sounds like fool talk doesn't it. JANE. To my father and yours it would sound like that and Samuel James would laugh at you, but he'd encourage you to believe in it. ROBBIE JOHN. Let me break it then. Smash it. JANE. [Determinedly.] No. Look Robbie if I said it was whispering you the truth, what would you say? ROBBIE JOHN. [Surprised.] I would say that it was true. But you never would. JANE. [Determinedly.] I say it is the truth. ROBBIE JOHN.