“Then why in the name of common sense, man, didn’t you say so before?” I burst out.
“Shure Oi didn’t loike ter throuble yiz, an’ you readin’ it out so beautiful-loike. An’ faith, Oi thought ’twas some scut av a Daypont you wuz spakin’ av as not doin’——”
Clancy looked at me and my face must have been awesome, for he stopped with mouth agape.
“Nor was the merchandise upon said shelf placed there by deponent?” I read inquiringly.
“’Twas Oi that put ut there av a Friday marnin,’ Sorr, an’——”
“Deponent further avers,” I continued with fearful calm, “that he never knew the said shelf was unsafe?”
“Shure ’twas the day befure Oi was spakin’ to th’ Super, an’ ses Oi to him—O’Toole, ses Oi, the shilf foreninst the dure is broke, ses Oi, but Oi’ve stooffed a bit of sthick in fur a nail, ses Oi, an’ ’twill holt good an’ ut don’t come down, Oi ses. Moike, ses he——”
“For Heaven’s sake man, stop! You must have known all this two years ago—why didn’t you speak then?”
“’Twas afraid av throublin’ yiz with deetales Oi wuz. Do ut make any difference, Sorr?”
“Difference!” I burst out. “Your case is absurd—utterly impossible and absurd! Why, man—you haven’t got a leg to stand on!”