“I am not then. Nor I won’t mention it to you until such time as you might be able to pay it. If so be that things turn out the way you say I shouldn’t care——”
“If you keep Gallagher waiting too long for his drink,” said Dr. O’Grady, “he’ll start breaking things. He must be uncommonly thirsty after all the speeches he made this afternoon.”
“That’s true,” said Doyle. “I’d maybe better go to him.”
Constable Moriarty stood just outside the door of the hotel. He saluted Major Kent as he passed. He touched his hat respectfully to Father McCormack. He saw Gallagher come downstairs and enter the bar. A few minutes later he saw Dr. O’Grady. All traces of his usual smile vanished from his face. He drew himself up stiffly, and his eyes expressed something more than official severity. When Dr. O’Grady passed through the door into the street, Moriarty confronted him.
“I’m glad to see,” said Dr. O’Grady, “that you’ve stopped grinning. It’s quite time you did.”
“It’s not grins I’m talking about now,” said Moriarty. “It’s Mary Ellen.”
“Nice little girl, isn’t she?”
“It’s a nice little girl you’ll make of her before you’ve done! What’s this I’m after hearing about the way you have in mind for dressing her up?”
“Do be reasonable, Moriarty! What’s the good of asking me what you’ve heard? I can’t possibly know, for I wasn’t there when you heard it.”
“You know well what I heard.”