"Ay tank mebbe Ay ban Christian," he said doubtfully.
"Ay tank mebbe ye're a Scandahoovian haythen," Mrs. Foley mimicked.
But the entrance of Faith and Angus cut short her further theological research. Faith explained her wants.
"It's for Blake French, Mary," she said. "He's—well, we thought he might feel better if—"
"Is he dhrunk, bad scran till him?"
"Half," Angus nodded.
"Then, instid of feedin' him why don't ye t'run him out?"
"I'd be glad to, but—"
"No, no," Faith broke in, "he may be better—"
"A bad actor an' a raw wan is that same lad," Mrs. Foley announced with conviction, "an' comin' around here too much. I am not yer mother, but if I was—"