“The same thing, I suppose?”
“Not quite,” said Titherington grinning again.
“Anyhow,” I said, “it’s the proper thing, the usual thing to do?”
“O’Donoghue has done it, and I expect that ruffian Vittie will have to in the end, little as he’ll like it.”
I signed.
“Here,” said Titherington, “is the letter of the joint committee of the Temperance Societies.”
“There appear to be twenty-three of them,” I said, glancing at the signatures.
“There are; and if there were only ten voters in each it would be more than we could afford to lose. Vittie thinks he has them all safe in his breeches pocket, but I have a letter here which will put his hair out of curl for a while.”
“I hate men with curly hair,” I said. “It’s so effeminate.”
Titherington seemed to think this remark foolish, though I meant it as an additional evidence of my determination to oppose Vittie to the last.