“He seems quite respectable,” said the Major. “He’s been here three days now, and I never saw him drunk.”
“It’s not that either that’s troubling me,” said Father McCormack. “There’s many a man gets drunk when he can, and I’d be the last to make too much out of that.”
“I can’t tell you any more about him,” said the Major, “for that’s all I know, except that he appears to be rich.”
“The difficulty I’m in is on account of the bishop. He’s getting to be mighty particular. I don’t say he’s wrong, mind you; only there it is. But sure, if no one in the place has anything to say against the American gentleman it’s likely he’ll turn out to be all right. But what about the fellow they want to put up the statue to?”
“General John Regan,” said the Major.
“What about him? I never heard tell of him before.”
“For the matter of that, nor did I.”
“Who was he at all?”
“You’ll have to ask Dr. O’Grady that. He’s the only man who professes to know anything about him.”
“As I was saying to you this minute,” said Father McCormack, “I wouldn’t mind if he was a Protestant.”