PART II. (continued 2)
Reading edition
“You did fairly enough; I grant that—but the moment you got into the barn a blind man could see it.”
“Bekase I didn't care a button wanst I escaped from the eye of your father; anyhow, bad luck to it for whiskey; I have a murdherin' big heddick all day afther it.”
“It's a bad weed, Bartle, and the less a man has to do with it, the less he'll be throubled afther wid a sore head or a sore conscience.”
“Connor, divil a one, but you're the moral of a good boy; I dunna a fault you have but one.”
“Come, let us hear it.”
“I'll tell you some day, but not now, not now—but I will tell you—an' I'll let you know the raison thin that I don't mintion it now; in the mane time I'll sit down an take a smoke.”
“A smoke! why, I never knew you smoked.”
“Nor I, myself, till last night. This tindher—box I was made a present of to light my pipe, when not near a coal. Begad, now that I think of it, I suppose it was smokin' that knocked me up so much last night, an' mide my head so sick to-day.”
“It helped it, I'll engage; if you will take my advice, it's a custom you won't larn.”
“I have a good deal to throuble me, Connor; you know I have; an' what we are brought down to now; I have more nor you'd believe to think of; as much, any way, as'll make this box an' steel useful, I hope, when I'm frettin'.”
Flanagan spoke truth, in assuring Connor that the apology given for his intoxication on the preceding night had escaped his memory. It was fortunate for him, indeed, that O'Donovan, like all candid and ingenuous persons, was utterly devoid of suspicion, otherwise he might have perceived, by the discrepancy in the two accounts, as well as by Flanagan's confusion, that he was a person in whom it might not be prudent to entrust much confidence.