“Hoo! Ye think to come the dignified over me, do ye, yer silly ould man! I’m not to be scaret by any such airs. I tell ye it’s bastely to bring dacent women and children inter sich a cesspool as this. By jabbers, I shall have to stop at Barker’s, as I go back, and take a bath.”
“Maloney, leave the house.”
“Lave the house, is it? Not till I’m ready, will I lave the house on the biddin’ of the likes of a man who hasn’t more regard for the mother that bore him nor to do what you’ve been doin’, yer ould barbarryan.”
“Quit the house, I say! If you think I’m going to borrow money of a beggarly Irish tailor, you’ll find yourself mistaken, Mr. Pat Maloney!”
“O, it’s that game yez thinkin’ to come on me, is it? Ha! By jabbers, I’m ready for yer there too. He’s a beggarly Irish tailor, is he? Then why did ye have the likes o’ him at all yer grand parties at Redcliff? Why did ye have him and his at all yer little family hops? Why couldn’t ye git through a forenoon, yer ould hyppercrit, widout the beggarly Irish tailor, to play billiards wid yer, or go a fishin’ wid yer, or a sailin’ wid yer?”
“I don’t choose to keep up the acquaintance, Mr. Maloney, now that you are poor.”
“That’s the biggest lie ye iver tould in yer life, yer ould chate!”
“Do you tell me I lie? Out of my house! Pay your own debts, you blackguard Paddy, before you come playing flush of your money to a gentleman like me.”
“A jintleman! Ye call yerself a jintleman, do ye,—ye onnateral ould simpleton? Ye bring born ladies inter a foul, unreputable house like this is, in a foul, unreputable street, wid a house of ill-fame on both sides of yer, and another oppersit, and then ye call yerself a jintleman. A jintleman, bedad! Ha, ha!”
“You lie, Pat Maloney. My next-door neighbors are decent folks,—much decenter than you are, you foul-mouthed Paddy.”