"I'd ask to be called nothing better!" declared the voice. "Thry me!"
I raged, flushing scarlet, and thanking heaven that those irrepressible blue Irish eyes did not see my angry confusion.
I called back: "This is important, Mr. Burke. I want to ask you about my mistress. Miss Million has not come back, and I want you to tell me if you know where she has gone."
"Is there anything I'd refuse a young lady? I'd tell you in one minute if I knew, me dear."
"You don't know?" anxiously. "Where did you last see her?"
"Isn't it my own black and bitter loss that I'll confide to ye now? Miss Million, d'ye say? Faith, I've never seen her at all!"
"Not last night——"
"Not anny night. Can't I come round and dhry those tears for her pretty maid?" demanded the voice that I now heard to be Irish with a difference from the softly persuasive accent of the Honourable Jim.
It went on: "Sure, I can see from here the lovely gyrull you must be, from your attractive voice! Where'r' ye speakin' from? Will I call on ye this afternoon, or will ye come round to——"
I broke in with severity: