Major Kent rose to his feet. He was very red in the face, and there was a look of rigid determination in his eyes.
“I may as well tell you at once,” he said, “that I’ll have nothing to do with any such plan.”
“Why not?” said Dr. O’Grady.
“Because I’m an honest man. I raised no particular objection when you merely proposed to make a fool of me and everybody else concerned——”
“You’ve done very little else except raise objections,” said Dr. O’Grady.
“—But when it comes to a deliberate act of dishonesty———”
“That’s a hard word, so it is,” said Doyle.
“It’s not a bit too hard,” said the Major, “and I say it again. Dishonesty. I won’t have anything to do——”
“The Major’s right,” said Father McCormack, “there’s no denying it, the Major’s right.”
“He would be right,” said Dr. O’Grady, “he’d be perfectly right if there were any dishonesty about the matter. I hope it isn’t necessary for me to say that if I thought the plan a dishonest one I’d be the last man in Ireland to propose it.”