‘You know, Virginia, since the first time my parents brought me
here as a boy, I had a strange feeling I had been here before. In those
days my parents used my birth name Seamus, which in english is
not Stanley. It`s James. When I went into secondary school, I
insisted on being called Stanley. That served me well when my
father was transferred to London with his company, and I was able
to go to Oxford. I ended up as a banker, and wrote poetry in my
leisure time. Had a dream of following in the footsteps of T.S. Eliot.
That didn’t work out, so when I retired I returned to Killarney
thinking that I would be more inspired and inclined to write poetry
in a less urban place. It turned out that my life as a guide provided
more pleasure in the company of people, than all alone, scribbling
away with no guaranty that what I wrote would ever be read by any
one, except myself. I...’

Stanley was about to continue but Virginia cut him off. ‘Stanley!
There was someone in my dream called Seamus.’