The Matchmaker Of Kenmare (2011) - Plot & Excerpts
His face was sometimes young as a boy’s, and sometimes creased with mourning. The talking began well—Ireland and fishing. We all liked one another. I gleaned further knowledge of his late wife. “She had the blackest hair you ever saw. I mean, when you looked into it very close. Black as black can be.” With his grief, his daily, hourly sense of loss—this man could become my friend. I ventured to ask about the war. “If we weren’t Irish and neutral, what would have happened to us by now? Here in France?” He looked around, to see whether anyone watched. A few people sat at tables in local clothes. He relaxed—and drew his hand across his throat. Miss Begley took back the conversation. “If this is painful,” she said, “say so, and I’ll stop. But would you tell me a little about Ann’s illness.” Once again his eyes became glassy. He gathered some composure and shook his head in refusal. With a smile, he asked her, “Are you still making ‘matches,’ as you call them?”
What do You think about The Matchmaker Of Kenmare (2011)?
