“Not at all,” said Dr. O’Grady. “My idea is to get Doyle’s money back for him out of the statue.”
The Major thought this statement over and gradually came to suspect that O’Grady contemplated some dishonourable use of public money. He was just beginning to make a violent protest when the door of the room in which they were sitting opened, and Gallagher came in.
“Doctor,” he said, “will you oblige me by coming over to the hotel at once and pacifying the American gentleman?”
“I thought as much,” said Dr. O’Grady, jumping up. “You’ve muddled things somehow, Thady.”
“I did the best I could,” said Gallagher, “but he wouldn’t rest content with young Kerrigan’s wife.”
“Good heavens!” said Dr. O’Grady, “what on earth have you said? Young Kerrigan hasn’t got a wife.”
“Sure I know that. But what was I to do? What I said was for the best. But anyway you’d better come round to the hotel, till you see for yourself the way we’re in.”
“Come along, Major,” said Dr. O’Grady. “You’ll enjoy watching us get out of this entanglement, whatever it is.”
“I’m not going with you,” said the Major. “I don’t see any fun in standing still and listening to you telling lies to that American. It’s not my idea of spending a pleasant afternoon.”
“Come along,” said Dr. O’Grady, taking him by the arm. “I may want you. I can’t tell yet whether I shall or not, for I don’t know yet what’s happened. But I may.”