"Come out," said he, "come out, sir. Sure, leave him alone, Tom, 'tis the only way to quiet him at all. Sure, after our little game the other night, wasn't he that dove-like, poor fellow, a child might have milked him?"
The quivering form in the chair here emitted a scale of hysterical little notes that seemed wrung from her by the most irrepressible emotion. And:
"Oh, oh," exclaimed Mr. Stafford, unable, in the midst of his laughter, to retain any further grip upon his friend.
"My darling," once more began the solicitous O'Hara, turning his head round towards the arm-chair, but:
"Judas!" hissed Sir Jasper, and furiously interposed his bulk between the Irishman and his intention.
"Faith," cried Stafford, "can't you cover that head of yours, somehow, O'Hara? I vow the very sight of it is still the red rag to the bull.... The bull, aha!"
"Ha! ha! ha!" broke in, this time uncontrolled, the merriment from the chair.
The three men were struck into silence and immobility.
Then, on tip toe, Mr. Stafford approached and peeped round the wing of the arm-chair. He looked, and seemed blasted with astonishment; looked again and made the rafters ring with his sonorous laugh, till the apprehensive landlord in the passage and the trembling dame in the bar were comforted and reassured by the genial sound.
The high feminine trill of Mistress Kitty's musical mirth rang in sweetly with his.