"Persecution! For shame, Doctor Marsh, to be making such a suggestion. It's logic I'm teaching Tim—the apples, Tim, the apples!"
"They're not apples, miss," replied Tim.
"What are they, then?"
"They're cores, miss."
This reply was greeted with a shout of laughter, often repeated as Tim produced the remains of four apples, one by one.
"There you are, doctor. Now, what would you do to Tim," asked Molly.
"Tell him to take what he wants and change him from a criminal to a law-abiding citizen."
"There you are, Tim. Do you see the doctor's watch—it's a fine gold repeater. Take it, if you are wanting a watch!"
Tim riveted his eyes on the doctor's watch-chain, and the latter put his fingers on it to assure himself of its safety.
"Run away, Tim, and don't be stealing again," he cried. "And you come inside with me, Molly, and eat your dinner. It will do you more good than a ton of logic. I have business with Father Healy."